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THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


THE  UNIVERSAL  ART  SERIES 

Edited  by  FREDERICK  MARRIOTT 

HON.  A.C.C.A.  (loN.)  R.B.C.,  A.R.E. 

MODERN  MOVEMENTS  IN  PAINTING 

BY  CHARLES  MARRIOTT 

DESIGN  AND  TRADITION 

BY  AMOR  FENN 

THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

BY  E.  J.  SULLIVAN 

SCULPTURE  OF  TO-DAY 

BY  KINETON  PARKE5 

Vol.  I.  America,  Great  Britain,  Japan 
Vol.  II.  Continent  of  Europe 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS,  NEW  YORK 


I 

i 


JOB’S  COMFORTERS. 


A.  BOYD  HOUGHTON. 


UNIVERSAL  ^ ART  < SERIES 

EDITED  BY  FREDERICK  MARRIOTT 


THE  ART  OF 
ILLUSTRATION 

BY 

EDMUND  J.  SULLIVAN 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 
597099  FIFTH  AVENUE 


THE  WESTMINSTER  PRESS 
HARROW  ROAD 
LONDON 


INTRODUCTION 


IT  is  not  generally  till  a book  is  finished  that  the 
author  finds  out  what  he  wants  to  say — yet  reading 
through  what  I have  written,  I find  a certain  drift 
which  it  may  be  as  well  to  point  out  and  summarize, 
as  though  I had  been  aiming  all  the  time  at  a foregone 
conclusion. 

The  book  has  been  written  with  no  foregone  con- 
clusion, but  in  addition  to  technical  notes,  contains  some 
examination  of  what  is  expressible  in  terms  of  pictorial 
art  loosely  summed  up  under  the  heading  of  “ Illus- 
tration.” 

In  view  of  all  the  possibilities  as  well  as  the  per- 
formances of  modern  process  reproduction,  I have 
found  it  hardly  necessary,  except  in  such  technical  notes 
as  I have  given,  to  refer  to  Book  Illustration  as  a special 
form  of  applied  art.  What  is  of  interest  is  the  question 
of  the  content  of  Art. 

To  my  regret  I have  never  seen  anything  but  repro- 
ductions of  Michael  Angelo’s  frescos  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel — but  my  regret  is  qualified  by  the  belief  that 
as  decoration  they  can  be  nothing  but  a stupendous 
misconception — and  that  Whistler,  with  a choice  of 
two  or  three  simple  tones,  and  the  disposal  of  a restful 
pattern,  would  have  produced  an  effect  infinitely  more 
pleasant  to  the  aesthetic  sense  if  that  alone  is  to  be 
considered.  Michael  Angelo  demands  of  the  spectator 
a concentrated  optical  and  mental  attention  under  the 
most  uncomfortable  physical  conditions  ; and  for  a 


V 


INTRODUCTION 

full  appreciation  of  the  work  it  would,  I imagine,  be 
necessary  to  lie  on  one’s  back  with  a pair  of  field  glasses, 
in  an  attitude  not  far  removed  from  that  of  the  deer 
stalker  in  the  Highlands — or  to  develop  a most  elastic 
“ rubber  neck,” 

Yet,  even  if  Whistler’s  draughtsmanship  had  been 
on  a level  with  that  of  Michael  Angelo,  none  would 
say  that  he  was  the  greater  artist — for  while  Whistler 
displays  a delicacy  of  perception  and  a perfection  of 
taste,  he  yet,  with  all  his  distinction,  remains  a pigmy 
beside  a giant.  Why  should  this  be,  unless  for  the  dis- 
crepancy between  the  richness  of  the  intellectual  con- 
tent of  the  art  of  one  and  the  thinness  of  texture  of  the 
other  ? 

It  seems  to  have  been  Whistler’s  aim  to  divorce  art 
from  life,  except  in  so  far  as  life  presented  itself  to  him 
in  the  shape  of  optical  phenomena — and  not  only  to 
specialize  art,  but  to  concentrate  attention  solely  upon 
it,  rather  than  to  look  upon  art  as  a possible  vehicle 
for  the  expression  of  the  entire  content  of  the  mind.  In 
that,  while  other  artists  had  endeavoured  to  extend 
the  boundaries  of  expression  in  accordance  with  the 
extension  of  the  confines  of  thought,  he  aimed  at 
exclusiveness  rather  than  inclusiveness,  he  was  re- 
actionary and  conser\'ative  rather  than  radical  and 
revolutionist.  His  protest,  both  in  practice  and  propa- 
ganda, was  directed  against  the  excesses  of  the  time  in 
which  an  inappropriate  sentimental  or  anecdotic  in- 
terest had  come  to  outweigh  pictorial  beauty  and  an 
appreciation  of  the  medium  of  expression.  In  order 
to  make  this  protest  in  favour  of  an  aesthetic  of  the  eye 
more  effective,  he  went  as  far  as  he  could  to  eliminate 


VI 


INTRODUCTION 

the  expression  of  all  but  such  sensation  as  can  be 
aroused  by  physical  vision  and  its  immediate  action 
on  the  mind. 

G.  F.  Watts,  noble  designer  as  he  was,  with,  for  the 
present  time  a somewhat  demode  grandeur  of  pictorial 
conception  that  will  yet  come  back  to  its  full  appreci- 
ation, did  on  occasion  fall  out  of  bed  on  the  other  side. 

The  present  tendency  is  to  endeavour  to  enlarge  the 
scope  or  at  least  change  the  method  of  expression, 
rather  to  the  neglect  of  what  may  be  expressed — to 
create  a new  and  unfamiliar  language  in  order  to  make 
a re-statement  of  old  and  familiar  facts.  Yet  why  invent 
a new  language  to  tell  us  that  a body  is  solid,  if  it  is  a 
fact  we  already  knew  ? It  only  adds  a new  voice  to  Babel, 
and  gets  no  nearer  the  truth.  What  is  of  interest  is  the 
character  the  solid  body  is  possessed  of — the  spiritual 
essence  as  well  as  the  form  it  inhabits,  and  the  impact 
the  whole  complex  solid  makes  upon  the  whole  com- 
plex mind,  and  not  only  upon,  or  by,  the  retina.  The 
means  of  expression  of  the  physical  response  have  been 
exploited  beyond  the  responses  of  the  spirit.  Is  the 
artist  alone  to  disregard  the  greater  part  of  his  own 
reaction  ? 

All  means  of  expression  should  be  explored — but  it 
is  not  words  only,  nor  even  a mellifluous  flow  of  them, 
that  make  poetry — and  an  aesthetic  that  in  its  aim  at  a 
simple  and  finite  perfection  would  exclude  even  a hint 
of  the  infinite,  restful  as  such  an  art  may  be,  may  after 
a short  contemplation  increase  the  fretfulness  it  was 
intended  to  allay.  Art  can  produce  an  anodyne  for 
the  pain  of  living — but  the  production  of  an  anodyne 
is  not  the  whole  aim  of  art.  Art  contains,  or  must  be 

vii 


INTRODUCTION 

made  to  contain,  means  for  the  expression  of  the  whole 
of  life,  and  life  at  its  most  vivid. 

It  is  not  only  from  the  study  of  optics,  the  rhythm  of 
flat  pattern,  or  the  presentation  of  objects  in  their  three 
dimensions  of  length,  breadth,  and  depth,  all  of  which 
have  been  pursued  with  something  approaching  a 
feverish  despair  of  art  inseparable  from  any  entirely 
materialistic  view,  so  much  as  from  a reconsideration 
of  the  possible  content  of  art  that  the  great  advance,  if 
ever  there  is  to  be  one,  is  to  be  hoped  for. 

Art  is  a sacrament — and  answers  to  the  old  definition 
“ an  outward  and  visible  sign  of  inward  spiritual  grace.” 
It  cannot  be  limited  to  the  outward  sign,  no  matter 
how  exquisite  the  sign  or  the  ritual  may  be.  The  in- 
ward grace  is  the  matter  that  has  been  neglected  in  the 
recent  pursuit. 

Art  speaks  a universal  language.  Has  it  no  more  to 
say  ? 


viii 


NOTE  AND  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

The  Illustrations  have  been  arranged  roughly 
in  chronological  order,  each  artist’s  work 
together  ; a method  which  it  is  thought,  in 
spite  of  certain  drawbacks  and  incongruities  inevitably 
arising,  will  provide  the  most  useful  and  convenient 
form  of  reference. 

The  author  and  publishers  wish  to  express  their 
indebtedness  to  the  courtesy  of  those  gentlemen  with- 
out whose  kind  permission  it  would  not  have  been 
possible  to  include  the  many  copyright  works  appearing 
in  this  volume  : — 

The  Leadenhall  Press,  Ltd.,  for  “ ’Orrible  and  Re- 
voltin’ Details,”  “ A Swell,”  from  Phil  May’s 
Guttersnipes. 

Messrs.  Wm.  Heinemann  for  pictures  from  Nichol- 
son’s “ Alphabet,''  Countess,  Lady. 

Messrs.  Bradbury  Agnew  and  Co.,  Ltd.  (Proprietors 
of  Punch),  for  Charles  Keene’s  pictures.  Punch 
Almanack,  1877,  “ Delicate  Attention,”  “ No 
Accounting  for  Taste,”  p.  306. 

Messrs.  John  Haddon  and  Co.,  for  three  pictures 
from  The  Parson  and  the  Painter,  by  Phil  May. 

Mr.  Harold  Hartley  for  the  frontispiece  after  Arthur 
Boyd  Houghton. 

The  Proprietors  of  the  Graphic  for  pictures  by 
Arthur  Boyd  Houghton. 

Mr.  Austin  Dobson  for  his  book  plate  by  E.  A.  Abbey. 
The  Beardsley  drawings  are  reproduced  by  special 
arrangement  with  Mr.  John  Lane. 


IX 


} 


•V 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 

V 

Note  and  Acknowledgments 

ix 

CHAPTER 

I 

The  Art  of  Illustration 

I 

II 

Whistler  on  the  Content  of  Art 

6 

III 

Purely  Pictorial  Art 

13 

IV 

Thought  Forms  and  Colours 

18 

V 

Automatic  Drawing  and  the  Power  of 

Suggestion 

25 

VI 

Object  and  Subject 

30 

VII 

Vivid  Vision  of  Facts 

38 

VIII 

Form  and  Line 

44 

IX 

Symbolism 

61 

X 

Cartoons 

67 

XI 

Study  of  Style 

76 

XII 

Consistency  with  Original  Impulse 

Essential  in  Art 

85 

XIII 

Flexibility  of  the  Pen  Line 

90 

XIV 

Composition  and  the  Principle  of  Groups 

; 94 

XV 

On  the  Use  of  Models 

103 

XVI 

Phil  May  and  Beardsley 

113 

XVII 

Botticelli  and  Progressive  Interest 

126 

XVIII 

Sandys  and  Boyd  Houghton 

135 

XIX 

Blake 

145 

XX 

Millais  and  the  Illustration  of  Verse 

148 

XXI 

Dore  and  Scale 

162 

XXII 

Reduction  of  Drawings  by  Process 

171 

XI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII  Some  Limitations  and  Possibilities  in 

Black  and  White  Convention  i8o 

XXIV  Suggestions  to  be  found  in  Copperplate 

Engraving  for  Pen  Drawing  184 

XXV  “ Line  ” and  Lines  189 

XXVI  Methods  of  Tone  Drawing  193 

XXVII  Coloured  Illustration  and  “ Make-up  ” 200 

XXVIII  Authors  and  Illustrations  208 

XXIX  Transitional  Times  and  Opinions  212 

XXX  Truth  to  Life  217 

XXXI  Blake  on  Imagination  221 

XXXII  Emotional  Quality  of  Vision  232 

XXXIII  Great  Literature  not  necessarily  more 

inspiring  than  poor  235 

XXXIV  Necessity  for  Accuracy  of  Reference  to 

Text  240 

XXXV  Illustration  of  Modern  Plays  244 

XXXVI  Children’s  Books  247 

xxxvn  The  Print  Room  251 

Index  255 


xii 


NO. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

18 

19 

20 
21 
22 

23 

24 

25 

26 

27 

28 

29 

30 

31 

32 

33 

34 

35 

36 

37 

38 


A.  Boyd  Houghton  : Job’s  Comforters  {Frontispiece) 
Botticelli  : Illustration  to  Dante 
,,  ,, 

Holbein  : The  Dance  of  Death 


yy  yy 

Diirer 

yy  • • 

yy  • • 

yy  • • 

Hans  Burgkmair 

y y 
yy 

Campagnola 

Rubens 


Jan  Lievens 
Blake  : Jerusalem 


3 

8 

9 

14 

16 

19 

21 

23 

26 

28 

31 

33 

35 

39 

43 

46 

47 
49 
53 
55 
57 
59 
62 

65 

69 

71 

73 

74 

78 

79 

81 

82 

87 

89 

91 

92 
96 


Xlll 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NO. 

39 

Blake  : Jerusalem 

PAGE 

. . 98 

40 

,,  ,, 

. . lOI 

41 

James  Northcote  : about  1850  : Corner’s  Fables 
,,  Corner’s  Fables 

. . 104 

42 

. . 106 

43 

ff  ,f  •••••• 

. . 107 

44 

f f f}  • • ••  •• 

. . Ill 

45 

Gustave  Dore  : Contes  Drolatiques. . 

. . 112 

46 

ft  ft  • • ••  •• 

• • 115 

47 

>»  ft  ••  •• 

..  117 

48 

ft  ft  • • • • • • 

..  119 

49 

ft  ft 

. . 122 

50 

ft  ft  ••  ••  •• 

..  123 

51 

ft  ft  • • • • • • 

. . 124 

52 

ft  ft  • • ♦ • • • 

. . 127 

53 

tt  tt  ••  ••  •• 

..  127 

54 

tt  tt  • • * * •• 

. . 128 

55 

tt  tt  •••••• 

. . 128 

56 

tt  tt  • • • • • • 

. . 129 

57 

Menzel  : Frederick  the  Great 

••  131 

58 

tt  tt  • • • • 

••  133 

59 

ft  tt 

..  136 

60 

tt  tt  ...... 

••  137 

61 

tt  tt  •••••• 

••  139 

62 

tt  tt  »«•••• 

..  141 

63 

tt  t t ••  ••  •• 

. . 142 

64 

tt  tt 

••  143 

65 

tt  tt  • • • • •• 

. . 146 

66 

tt  tt  •••••• 

..  151 

67 

tt  tt  ...... 

••  153 

68 

,,  From  a proof  in  the  Print  Room,  British  Museum  154 

69 

Millais  : From  the  Moxon  “ Tennyson,”  1857  . . 

••  157 

70 

tt  tt  tt  tt  • • 

••  159 

71 

tt  tt  tt  tt  • • 

• • 163 

72 

,,  “ Edward  Grey  ” 

• • 165 

73 

,,  From  “ Poets  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  ” 

. . 167 

74 

,,  The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge 

. . 169 

75 

,,  ,,  Sower 

••  173 

76 

,,  Illustration  to  Anthony  Trollope 

,,  ,,  “ Orley  Farm  ” 

••  175 

77 

••  177 

78 

Leighton  (Frederick)  : Cain 

. . 178 

79 

Sandys  : “ The  Old  Chartist  ” 

. . 182 

80 

„ King  War-Wolf  

..  185 

81 

,,  Harald  Harfagr 

..  187 

82 

A.  Boyd  Houghton  : From  the  “ Arabian  Nights  ” 

..  191 

XIV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NO. 

83 

84 

85 

86 

87 

88 

89 

90 

91 

92 

93 

94 

95 

96 

97 

98 

99 

100 

101 

102 

103 

104 

105 


PAGE 


A.  Boyd  Houghton  : The  Grief  of  Camaralzaman,  from 
the  “ Arabian  Nights  ” . . . . . . . . , . 194 

A.  Boyd  Houghton  : From  the  “ Arabian  Nights  ” . . 197 

,,  “ The  Dust  Barrel  Nuisance,”  from 

“ Graphic  America  ” . . . . . . . . . . 198 

A.  Boyd  Houghton  : “ The  Saint’s  Story  ” . . . . 201 

,,  “Tom,  Tom  the  Piper’s  Son”..  205 

,,  “ The  Ladies  Window  in  the  New 

York  Post  Office,”  from  “ Graphic  America  ” . . 209 

A.  Boyd  Houghton : “ The  Tombs  ” from  “ Graphic 
America  ” . . . . . . . . . . . . 213 

Charles  Keene  : From  “ Punch  ” . . . . . . 21? 

,,  ,,  . . . . . . . . 218 

Phil  May  : From  “ The  Parson  and  the  Painter  ” . . 219 

,,  ,,  ,,  ,,  . . 222 

„ „ „ ^ ..  225 

,,  ,,  “ Guttersnipes  ” . . . , . . 227 

„ ,,  ,,  229 

Leandre  : A master  of  caricature.  From  “ Le  Rire  ” . . 233 
E.  A.  Abbey  . . . . . . . . . . . . 237 

Beardsley  : From  “ Under  the  Hill  ” . . . . . . 239 

, ,,  “ The  Rape  of  the  Lock  ” . . 241 

,,  ,,  “ The  Yellow  Book  ” . . . . 243 

„ „ „ ....  245 

» , 249 

Woodcut  : Key  block  from  “ Nicholson’s  Alphabet  ” . . 252 


••  253 


XV 


:rv- 


^,V 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

NOW  that  mechanical  and  photographic  means  of 
reproduction  make  it  possible  for  an  illustrator 
to  employ  practically  any  graphic  means  he  may 
prefer,  from  a full-bodied  oil  colour  to  the  most  delicate 
pencil  point,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  limit  our  consider- 
ation in  speaking  of  “ Illustration  ” in  general  to  any 
particular  medium — and  an  Academy  picture  will  serve 
as  readily  for  an  example  as  the  cartoon  in  this  week’s 
Punch.  Michael  Angelo’s  Sistine  Chapel  frescos  are  mag- 
nificent illustrations  ; it  is  even  probable  that  his  pre- 
occupation with  their  subject  matter  interfered  with 
their  decorative  function.  His  desire  to  produce  a 
microcosm  of  his  thought  led  him  to  pack  the  walls 
beyond  their  capacity  as  though  in  a book  his  draw- 
ings had  run  into  the  margin. 

Rhythm  pursued  for  its  own  sake  will  lead  to  excess 
and  weakness,  unless  stiffened  with  at  least  an  in- 
fusion of  character  and  thought,  and  will  arrive  at  a 
meaningless  banality — as  in  the  exercise  of  making 
Latin  nonsense  verses  where  words  are  used  solely  for 
rhythm  regardless  of  meaning.  “ Content  ” on  the 
other  hand  may  land  its  pursuer  into  a formless  ejacu- 
latory catalogue  without  coherence,  as  it  did  with 
Walt  Whitman.  The  two  must  be  brought  into  har- 
monious relation  to  evolve  a work  of  art — until  one 
can  hardly  be  said  to  exist  without  the  other,  as  though 


I 


B 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

they  had  been  worked  up  together  into  an  indissoluble 
paste. 

The  use  of  the  word  “ Illustration  ” calls  immedi- 
ately for  the  consideration  of  what  is  the  content  proper 


to  pictorial  art — presuming  Art  to  contain  anything  but 
itself — of  what  means  it  has  at  its  disposal,  and  what 
these  are  best  fitted  to  express. 

Since  among  the  greatest  artists  of  all  time  have 
been  many  who  have  been  but  ill  content  with  the 
realization  of  Beauty  alone,  but  have  charged  their  art 


2 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

with  a burden  of  fact,  story,  symbol  or  idea,  the  carry- 
ing of  which  in  many  cases  has  been  the  first  motive 
impelling  them  to  expression  in  graphic  or  plastic 
form,  it  might  seem  hardly  necessary  to  defend  the 


No.  2.  Botticelli.  Illustration  to  Dante.  Pen  drawing. 


position  of  the  illustrator  to-day.  But  there  has  been  of 
late  years  a tendency  to  explore  anew  the  purposes  and 
possibilities  of  art  ; and  some  endeavour  to  re-cast 
art  itself  in  accordance  with  new  conceptions  and  the 
changing  requirements  of  the  times — even  with  a fear 
that  art  itself  is  already  exhausted,  and  that  nothing 
but  repetition  is  possible. 


3 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

The  craftsman’s  skill  in  producing  a likeness  of  an 
external  object  true  in  form,  colour,  and  tone,  no 
longer  satisfies  the  more  intelligent  portion  of  the 
public  ; and  among  artists  themselves  there  has  been 
much  ferment  and  searching  of  heart.  In  London  the 
exhibitions  of  the  International  Society,  the  life-work 
of  Whistler  (who  had  remained  till  his  death  some- 
thing of  a mystery  to  the  public),  the  vogue  of  Beards- 
ley, followed  some  years  later  by  the  Post-Impression- 
ists, Futurists,  and  Cubists,  has  had  the  effect  at  least 
of  widening  the  horizon  of  a public  that  had  looked 
upon  the  National  Gallery  as  a museum  of  curiosities 
of  a dead  Art,  and  the  Academy  as  representative  of 
modern  and  living  truth  and  idealism.  The  Academy 
walls  had  for  long  taken  the  place  of  a huge  story  annual 
or  “ summer  number  ” illustrated  in  colours — a seasonal 
gratification  in  which  the  content,  paltry  as  it  generally 
was,  had  become  all  important  and  art  negligible.  The 
“ aesthetic  movement  ” of  the  eighties  had  had  a certain 
effect  ; but  the  excesses  into  which  it  was  carried  had 
discredited  the  use  even  of  the  words  “ aesthetics  ” and 
“ aestheticism,”  as  though  these  belonged  exclusively  to 
that  taste  in  “ dirty  greens  ” and  the  false  mediaevalism 
which  Gilbert  had  so  delightfully  ridiculed  in“Patience.” 
Professors  of  “ High  Art  ” turned  to  Greece,  Rome  or 
Pompeii  for  their  subject  matter — and  Leighton’s  suave 
grace  and  Alma  Tadema’s  marbles  were  regarded  as 
“ classic  ” because  the  figures  introduced  were  clothed 
in  chiton  and  peplum  instead  of  the  fashions  of  the 
period.  Mode  of  expression  meant  nothing.  Most  of 
the  “ subject  ” painters  of  the  time  were  inclined  to 
look  away  from  the  life  surrounding  them  to  other 

4 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
periods  and  other  places  ; or  if  they  looked  at  it  at  all 
it  was  with  a view  to  extracting  from  it  some  forced 
situation  of  family  affection  or  distress,  or  of  some  other 
anecdotic  interest . “ Once  bitten  twice  shy  ” (a  picture  of 
a dog  and  a little  girl  with  a mustard  pot)  had  been  a 
great  popular  success  ; but  this  style  of  picture  cul- 
minated in  the  still  remembered  tableau  vivant  of  the 
“ Doctor  ” by  Luke  Fildes. 

The  quality  of  presentation  had  come  hardly  to 
matter  so  long  as  an  appeal  could  be  made  to  the  love 
of  an  idealized  feminine  grace,  sentiment  or  dramatic 
situation.  Distinction  of  vision,  of  aesthetic  expression, 
of  artistic  selection  in  form,  colour  and  tone — “ style” 
in  short,  was  at  a discount  as  of  no  interest.  This  re- 
quires training  for  its  full  enjoyment— whereas  the 
story  interest  and  the  love  of  pretty  things  and  people, 
is  open  to  the  lowest  intelligence. 

In  so  far  as  style  was  depressed  in  favour  of  the 
content,  or  because  indeed  the  content  had  become 
its  sole  raison  d' Hr 6—2.  natural  reaction  set  in,  and 
“ subject  painting  ” fell  into  a well-merited  disrepute. 
Old  formulae  of  picture  making  were  discarded  ; artists 
turned  to  the  science  of  vision  ; there  was  great  talk  of 
“ values,”  of  open  air  painting  and  so  on,  in  the  pursuit 
at  least  of  truth  to  observed  Nature — ending  in  a more 
or  less  photographic  and  dull  result— and  since  simple 
“ truth  to  Nature  ” is  always  bound  to  lead  to  this 
point  it  became  and  still  is  necessary  to  pause  now  and 
again  to  examine  the  artistic  map  in  order  to  set  out 
with  some  idea  of  the  road  to  go  in  order  to  get  to  the 
desirable  end. 


5 


CHAPTER  II 


WHISTLER  ON  THE  CONTENT  OF  ART 

IT  may  be  thought  that  Whistler,  in  a very  effective 
defence  of  some  of  his  own  work,  has  disposed  of 
any  claim  that  Illustration  might  make  for  inclusion 
among  the  arts,  except  as  a hanger  on.  The  following 
is  an  extract  from  the  Gentle  Art  of  Making  Enemies^ 
pp.  126-128  : 

“ My  picture  of  a ‘ Harmony  in  Grey  and  Gold  ’ is 
an  illustration  of  my  meaning — a snow  scene  with  a 
single  black  figure  and  a lighted  tavern.  I care  nothing 
for  the  past,  present  or  future  of  the  black  figure, 
placed  there  because  the  black  w’as  wanted  at  that  spot. 
All  that  I know  is  that  my  combination  of  grey  and 
gold  is  the  basis  of  the  picture.  Now  this  is  precisely 
what  my  friends^  cannot  grasp.  They  say,  ‘ Why  not 
call  it  ‘ Trotty  Veck,’  and  sell  it  for  a round  harmony 
of  golden  guineas  ? ’ naively  acknowledging  that,  with- 
out baptism  there  is  no  market.  But  even  commerci- 
ally this  stocking  of  your  shop  with  the  goods  of  another 
would  be  indecent — custom  alone  has  made  it  digni- 
fied. Not  even  the  popularity  of  Dickens  should  be 
invoked  to  lend  an  adventitious  aid  to  art  of  another 
kind  from  his.  I should  hold  it  a vulgar  and  mere- 
tricious trick  to  excite  people  about  Trotty  Veck  when, 
if  they  really  could  care  for  pictorial  art  at  all,  they 
would  know  that  the  picture  should  have  its  own  merit, 
and  not  depend  upon  dramatic  or  legendary  or  local 

6 


WHISTLER  ON  THE  CONTENT  OF  ART 

interest.  As  music  is  the  poetry  of  sound,  so  is  painting 
the  poetry  of  sight,  and  the  subject  matter  has  nothing 
to  do  with  harmony  of  sound  or  of  colour.* 

“ Art  should  be  independent  of  all  clap-trap — should 
stand  alone,  and  appeal  to  the  artistic  sense  of  eye  or 
ear,  without  confounding  this  with  emotions  entirely 
foreign  to  it,  as  devotion,  pity,  love,  patriotism,  and 
the  like.  All  these  have  no  kind  of  concern  with  it,  and 
that  is  why  I insist  on  calling  my  works  ‘ arrange- 
ments ’ and  ‘ harmonies.’  ” 


“ The  imitator  is  a poor  kind  of  creature.  If  the  man 
who  paints  only  the  tree  or  flower  or  other  surface  he 
sees  before  him  were  an  artist,  the  king  of  artists  would 
be  the  photographer.  It  is  for  the  artist  to  do  something 
beyond  this  ; in  portrait  painting  to  put  on  canvas 
something  more  than  the  face  the  model  wears  for 
that  one  day — in  short,  to  paint  the  man  as  well  as 
his  features  ; in  arrangement  of  colours  to  treat  a 
flower  as  his  key,  not  as  his  model.” 

A too  ready  or  too  full  acceptance  of  this  doctrine 
would  dismiss  and  put  out  of  court  off-hand  almost 
the  whole  of  our  subject.  But  neither  the  opinion  nor 
the  subject  is  dismissible. 

* It  is  probable  that  there  is  some  analysable  correspondence  between 
the  rhythm  of  line  and  of  melody;  as  there  appears  to  be  between  the 
vibrations  of  colour,  of  sound,  and  of  scent.  The  volatility  of  scent  being 
slow  or  rapid  produces  the  equivalent  of  treble  or  bass.  These  vibrations 
travelling  at  different  rates  their  impact  on  the  sense  may  harmonize  or  be 
discordant.  Mr.  William  Webb,  an  old  friend  of  Whistler’s,  has  told  me  that 
he  matched  a slate  grey  by  a note  in  the  scale,  and  that  Whistler  agreed 
with  him  as  to  their  correspondence.  In  Piesse’s  learned  book  on  perfumes 
a complete  scale  of  scents  is  given  in  correspondence  with  the  notes  of  the 
piano.  If  this  is  accurate  it  should  follow  that  it  is  possible  to  match  scent 
and  colour.  (Is  silence  producible  by  the  cancelling  out  or  the  combination 
of  vibrations?) 


7 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

Is  Whistler  right  ? Yes. 

Are  Michael  Angelo,  Diirer,  Blake,  and  the  great 
host  of  artists  who  have  been  in  the  main  illustrators 
wrong  ? No. 

So  both  are  right  ? Yes : “ for  the  time  being,”  on  one 
hand  ; and  “ for  all  time  ” on  the  other. 


Drr  Keyfer, 


• No.  3.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 
Woodcut. 


How  are  the  apparent  opposites  to  be  reconciled  ? 

It  will  be  best  to  face  the  question  to  begin  with 
rather  than  to  fall  into  doubt  as  to  whether  a right 
course  has  been  pursued  when  it  may  seem  too  late  to 
alter  it,  and  there  is  nothing  to  look  back  upon  but  a 
mistaken  career  in  pursuit  of  false  gods  in  art,  as  so 
many  have  done— and  having  lost  faith  in  the  idols 
they  have  loved,  lose  faith  also  in  themselves. 

8 


WHISTLER  ON  THE  CONTENT  OF  ART 

In  so  far  as  Whistler’s  argument  is  confined  to  the 
emotional  effect  of  paint  or  its  effect  on  the  primary 
sensations  through  the  optic  nerve — a good  parallel 
may  be  drawn  between  the  art  of  painting  and  the  art 
of  music*  with  its  effect  exercised  through  the  ear.  In 


No.  4.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 
Use  of  “local  colour”  noticeable  as  unusual. 


both  cases  the  effect  produced  is  one  of  passive  sym- 
pathy with  the  active  producer,  as  though  a hand  were 
passed  and  re-passed  in  a hypnotic  manner  over  his 
forehead  so  that  the  will  and  the  intellect  should  be 
put  to  sleep,  and  a state  of  emotional  trance  produced. 

But  even  in  Whistler’s  argument  he  slithers  over, 
apparently  with  a sense  of  the  thinness  of  the  ice,  the 

* See  footnote  on  p.  7. 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION  - 

question  of  portraiture.  A gap  has  been  carefully  left 
in  the  quotation  so  that  the  question  could  be  separ- 
ately dealt  with. 

“ Take  the  picture  of  my  mother,  exhibited  at  the 
Royal  Academy  as  an  ‘ Arrangement  in  Grey  and 
Black.’  Now  that  is  what  it  is.  To  me  it  is  interesting 
as  a picture  of  my  mother  ; but  what  can  or  ought  the 
public  to  care  about  the  identity  of  the  portrait  ? ” 

It  is  precisely  the  fact  that  Whistler’s  logic  broke 
down,  and  his  emotion  broke  through  that  saves  this 
work,  that  saved  his  Carlyle  from  a deadly  academic 
perfection.  The  portrait  of  Miss  Alexander  would 
have  been  a “ perfect  ” work  of  art,  if  the  portraiture 
had  not  puzzled  and  betrayed  him.  His  human 
sympathies  were  so  limited,  or  rather  perhaps  so  timid 
and  reserved,  that  it  was  only  under  great  stress  that 
they  informed,  instead  of  interfering,  with  his  pre- 
occupation with  pattern  or  silhouette,  and  oppositions 
of  tone  and  colour.  He  set  out  in  search  of  pure  pictorial 
art,  and  could  not  find  it,  except  when,  in  his  search, 
he  stopped  by  the  wayside,  dropped  his  load  of  theory, 
and  gave  way  to  what  he  may  have  considered  a weak- 
ness— and  “ put  on  canvas  something  more  than  the 
face  the  model  wore  for  that  one  day — in  short,  to 
paint  the  man  as  well  as  his  features.”  This  he  includes 
as  part  of  the  aesthetic  of  portrait  painting.  What  else 
is  this  but  Illustration  in  one  of  its  simplest  manifesta- 
tions ? And  what  but  this  makes  the  portrait  of  his 
mother  something  more  than  a restful  background  to 
intelligent  conversation  ? 

To  look  to  art  to  produce  a perfect  flower,  like  a prize 
dahlia,  is  to  look  for  something  heartless  and  inhuman 


lo 


WHISTLER  ON  THE  CONTENT  OF  ART 

— for  art  would  then  have  become  more  a matter 
of  exact  mathematics  than  of  the  unknown.  But  Art 
consists  of  three  factors  in  varying  proportion — In- 
telligence, Emotion,  and  Craftsmanship — so  to  leave 
out  Intelligence  amounts  to  going  without  one  of  the 
primary  colours  in  painting,  and  limiting  the  range  of 
expression. 

Art  should  be  capable  of  expressing  the  reaction  that 
is  made  against  the  whole  impact  of  life  upon  the  whole 
being  of  the  artist  ; and  will  be  determined  in  its  form 
by  the  medium  the  artist  uses.  To  use  a medium 
unsuited  for  what  he  wishes  to  express  is  inartistic.  He 
will  not  endeavour  to  compel  either  his  medium  or  his 
audience,  being  primarily  concerned  with  perfect  self- 
expression,  and  not  with  the  effect  of  the  expression 
on  others. 

The  comparison  of  pictorial  art  with  music  alone 
may  lead  to  a fallacy — for  music  is  not  in  its  pure  form 
directly  representative  of  observed  sounds— whereas 
pictorial  art  does  refer  perpetually  to  observed  forms 
and  colours,  and  so  speaks  to  those  only  who  have  to 
some  extent  exercised  their  intelligence.  We  do  not 
compare  the  sounds  of  Beethoven’s  sonatas  with  sounds 
heard  in  nature — and  it  is  probable  that  an  idiot  is 
capable  of  as  keen  an  enjoyment,  I do  not  say  appreci- 
ation, of  music  as  the  most  intelligent  : while  for  the 
enjoyment,  apart  from  the  appreciation,  of  a work  by 
Holbein,  Diirer,  or  Michael  Angelo,  a complex  of 
capacities  is  requisite.  Music  is  a simple  art,  being 
generally  even  less  representative  and  associated  than 
the  scent  of  the  perfumer — while  other  arts  are  com- 
plex. The  art  of  the  painter  is  more  nearly  comparable 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

to  that  of  the  poet.  Words  do  not  “ reproduce  ” things, 
but  “ represent  ” ideas  of  them — and  to  represent  or 
reproduce  implies  first  production  and  presentation. 
Words  are  symbols,  and  not  things  or  ideas — in  a sense 
that  sounds  alone  are  not — and  so  are  forms.  A note 
has  meaning  only  in  its  reference  backwards  and  for- 
wards in  rhythm  or  simultaneously  with  other  notes  in 
harmony — as  an  individual  note  it  symbolizes  and 
suggests  nothing  at  all  but  a hooter.  Pictorial  art  in 
any  form,  like  ordered  speech,  makes  its  appeal  by 
means  of  recognisable  symbols  of  things  seen  ; and  its 
appeal  can  only  be  to  those  who  have  seen  enough  to 
recognize  the  basis  of  the  symbol  and  so  can  follow  the 
process  by  which  symbols  are  compared,  or  combined 
into  a logical  unit,  just  as  words,  each  containing  an 
idea,  are  formed  into  a grammatical  sentence.  Whistler’s 
argument  holds  good  for  our  pleasure  in  the  decoration 
and  spacing  of  a wall — but  not  for  the  expression  of  a 
mind  except  in  so  far  as  a mind  may  find  satisfaction 
for  itself  in  such  expression.  Art  on  his  written  terms 
becomes  nothing  more  than  a beautiful  background — 
against  which  all  the  action  of  life  takes  place,  and  in 
which  Art  has  no  concern  and  takes  no  interest.  Luckily, 
in  his  painting  he  was  not  quite  consistent  ; and  his 
art  keeps  throughout  some  reference  to  common  ex- 
perience so  that  by  the  side  of  much  of  the  work  of 
later  men  it  sometimes  appears  almost  academic. 


12 


CHAPTER  III 


PURELY  PICTORIAL  ART 

All  traditional  art  has  hitherto  fallen  into  one 
of  two  categories  so  as  to  give  rise  to  a question 
as  to  whether  it  is  primarily  concerned  with  the 
presentation  or  illustration  of  facts  or  of  ideas — yet  there 
is  a third  possibility  open  to  the  artist  ; and  it  may 
perhaps  be  useful  to  explore  it. 

It  has  been  said  that  there  are  only  twenty-seven 
stories  or  jokes  in  the  world  ; yet  the  inventor  of  the 
riddle  “ Why  does  a mouse  when  it  spins  } ” who 
expected  the  answer  to  the  question  to  be  either  “ Be- 
cause the  sooner  the  higher,”  or  “ Because  the  gossamer 
webs,”  did  invent  a new  form  of  humour  that  tickled 
some  people  and  drove  others  to  distraction.  It  is  worth 
analysing  since  the  originator  of  the  question  and 
answer  must  have  been  a logician,  otherwise  he  could 
hardly  have  so  volatilized  all  logic  from  his  conundrum. 
In  an  atmosphere  of  prevailing  solemnity  there  is  in  us 
something  that  responds  rapidly  to  the  perfectly  irre- 
sponsible absurdity  of  this  form  of  humour  ; but  it 
does  demand  for  its  bursting  effect  a prevalent  solemnity 
rather  than  frivolity. 

In  the  same  way  that  the  logician  had  managed  to 
invent  a question  and  answer  that,  while  employing 
words,  meant  nothing  whatever,  and  on  that  very 
account  was  capable  of  stirring  an  emotion  either  of 
amusement  or  anger — so  the  artist  may  at  times 

13 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


endeavour  to  sift  out  those  elements  of  line  and  colour 
which,  while  having  no  meaning  external  to  themselves, 
may  yet  be  capable  of  stirring  the  purely  aesthetic  emo- 
tions. These  will  always  be  likely  to  cause  shock,  like  the 
riddle  just  quoted,  to  persons  of  set  habits  of  mind  who 


Dfr  Ritter. 


No.  5.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 

may  consider  the  pride  of  reason  to  be  insulted,  when 
after  all  the  shock  is  due  only  to  surprise  at  being  sud- 
denly confronted  by  a confusing  problem  in  aesthetics. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  we  may  receive  pleasure 
from  a single  unrelated  colour — for  instance,  the  dye 
of  a Chinese  or  Indian  silk — or  from  the  sweeping 
rhythm  of  a meaningless  line.  A handwriting  may  be 
beautiful  though  we  cannot  read  or  understand  the 
language  it  is  written  in.  Is  it  possible  to  evolve  an  art, 


PURELY  PICTORIAL  ART 
then,  from  such  elements  as  are  here  indicated  that 
shall  gratify  the  pure  aesthetic  emotion  without  calling 
upon  the  association  of  ideas — without  representation 
close  or  remote,  of  observed  facts  ? To  arrive,  by  means 
of  rhythm  of  line  and  harmony  of  colour  at  an  appeal 
to  the  emotions  through  the  eye  that  shall  be  equivalent 
or  nearly  so  to  the  pure  art  of  music  ? 

It  is  an  interesting  speculation  that  I indulged  in  as 
a young  man,  to  the  extent  of  making  and  abandon- 
ing such  experiments  ; and  I remember  raising  the 
question  with  Mr.  D.  S.  MacColl.  We  were  inclined 
at  that  time  to  conclude  that  organic  form  was  the  basis 
of  all  pictorial  art — but  of  late  years  the  new  men  either 
having  more  time  or  greater  energy,  or  perhaps  that  the 
times  are  more  nearly  ripe  for  the  appreciation  of  such 
efforts,  seem  to  be  experimenting  along  some  such 
lines  in  various  directions.  It  is  doubtful  if  art  can  be 
so  etherealized — or  purified — so  separated  from  record 
or  S5unbol  of  external  objects  as  to  be  made  a means  of 
communication  of  any  but  the  most  limited  and  faint 
emotions  when  compared  with  that  of  music.  Pictorial 
art  apart  from  its  subject  matter,  makes  its  appeal  more 
to  the  intellect  than  to  the  passions — and  it  will  make 
this  more  simply  and  more  intelligibly  by  the  accept- 
ance of  the  traditional  means  of  expression,  even  though 
those  means  are  more  complex  than  those  he  proposes 
to  employ. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  the  mind  can  arrive  at 
combinations  of  pure  form  and  colour  at  the  same  time 
more  devoid  of  organic  significance  and  more  satis- 
factory Eesthetically  than  are  to  be  arrived  at  by  such 
means  as  are  used  for  the  marbling  of  paper ; and  in  this 

15 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
connection  it  is  worth  recalling  that  Sterne  used  a 
sheet  of  marbled  paper  by  way  of  an  illustration  to  a 
passage  in  Tristram  Shandy — ^just  as  in  another  place 
he  had  quite  effectively  introduced  a black  page.  Here 
is  the  passage  that  the  marbled  page  refers  to  : “ Who 


No.  6.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 

Local  colour  again. 

was  Tickletohy's  mare  ? Read,  read,  read,  read,  my 
unlearned  reader  ! read — or  by  the  knowledge  of  the 
great  saint  Paraleipomenon  I tell  you  beforehand  you 
had  better  throw  down  the  book  at  once  ; for  with- 
out much  readings  by  which  your  reverence  knows  I 
mean  much  knowledge,  you  will  no  more  be  able  to 
penetrate  the  moral  of  the  next  marbled  page  (motley 
emblem  of  my  work  !)  than  the  world  with  all  its 
sagacity  has  been  able  to  unravel  the  many  opinions, 

i6 


PURELY  PICTORIAL  ART 

transactions,  and  truths  which  still  lie  hid  under  the  veil 
of  the  black  one”  {Tristram  Shandy ^ Ch.  xxxvi.  The 
black  page  is  given  as  preface  to  Ch.  xiii,).  In  Chapter 
iv.,  Bk.  ix,  he  gives  a great  curly  pen  scrawl  as  illus- 
tration of  how  the  corporal  flourished  his  stick.  “ While 
a man  is  free  ” — cried  the  corporal — “ a thousand  of 
my  father’s  most  subtle  syllogisms  could  not  have  said 
more  for  celibacy  ” is  the  author’s  comment.  Is  this 
the  “ significant  line  ” of  which  we  now  hear  so  much  ? 

It  seems  unnecessary  to  pursue  the  consideration  of 
the  possibilities  of  art  in  the  direction  of  the  inorganic 
beyond  the  marbled  and  the  black  pages  of  Yorick. 


17 


c 


CHAPTER  IV 


THOUGHT  FORMS  AND  COLOURS 

Efforts  have  been  made  by  clairvoyants  to  set 
down  the  form  and  colour  of  thought  and  emotion , 
and  even  to  represent  the  soul  itself  in  terms  of 
colour;  and  an  illustrated  book  upon  the  subject,  Thought 
Forms,  by  Mrs.  A.  Besant  and  Mr.  C.  W.  Leadbeater, 
has  been  published.  From  a sympathetic  review  of  the 
book  we  learn  that  “ black  indicates  hatred  and  malice. 
Red  of  all  shades  shows  anger — brutal  anger  is  shown 
by  flashes  of  lurid  red  from  dark  brown  colours,  while 
‘ noble  indignation  ’ is  a vivid  scarlet.  Clear  brown 
denotes  avarice,  while  dull  grey-brown  shows  selfish- 
ness. Deep  heavy  grey  denotes  depression,  and  livid 
pale  grey  shows  fear.  . . . Grey-green  denotes  deceit  ; 
and  brownish-green,  usually  flecked  with  scarlet, 
jealousy.  Green  is  always  the  colour  of  adaptability  : 
in  the  undeveloped  man  this  expresses  itself  as  deceit  ; 
at  a later  stage  it  becomes  a desire  to  be  all  things  to  all 
men,  even  if  only  for  popularity  ; and  finally,  in  the 
developed  man  we  have  a wonderful  luminous  green 
denoting  the  highest  sympathy.  Affection  shows  itself 
in  all  shades  of  crimson  and  rose  : when  discoloured 
by  brown  and  grey  we  find  the  affection  is  of  a selfish, 
grasping  nature  ; but  pure  pale  rose  denotes  the  highest 
unselfish  love,”  etc.  {Bibby’s  Annual,  1920).  Coloured 
examples  are  given  of  forms  generated  by  two  persons 
“ animated  by  an  affectionate  interest  in  an  injured 

18 


THOUGHT  FORMS  AND  COLOURS 
person  ” and  a deep  sympathy  for  his  pain,  and  we 
notice  that  the  colours  in  both  are  identical,  though  the 
outlines  are  very  dissimilar.  The  one  over  whom  the 
vague  cloud  floats  is  thinking  “ Poor  fellow,  how  sad,” 
while  the  other  is  already  rushing  forward  to  help. 


The  one  is  a dreamer  of  acute  sensibilities,  while  the 
other  is  a man  of  action.  Other  examples  were  given  in 
an  earlier  annual  (1917)  of  “thought  forms”;  one  of 
Love  and  Peace,  Protection  and  Benediction  “ sent 
forth  by  one  who  has  the  power  and  has  earned  the 
right  to  bless,” — rather  like  a yellow  sun  with  pink  wings. 
A “ Thought  Form  of  watchful  Jealousy  ” is  like  a 
single  sharply  pointed  and  curved  cow’s-horn,  a 
“ Thought  Form  of  Self  Renunciation  ” is  a pale  blue 
flower-like  shape,  and  “ Anger  directed  against  a 

19 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
person  who  had  inflicted  a deep  injury  on  the  one  who 
sent  it  forth  ” is  a simple  vermilion  spike.  “ The  dia- 
grams shown  are  not  mere  imaginings  of  what  should 
take  place,  but  are  actual  examples  seen  by  clairvoy- 
ants and  reproduced  as  carefully  and  accurately  as 
possible  . . . our  imaginations  must  help  us  to  under- 
stand something  of  the  original  from  the  representa- 
tion of  it  we  have  before  us,”  Interesting  as  these  may 
be  from  the  psychologist’s  point  of  view,  their  lack  of 
recognisable  relation  to  general  experience  renders 
them  negligible  as  symbols,  since,  no  matter  how 
accurate  they  may  be,  in  the  absence  of  the  verbal 
description,  they  succeed  in  carrying  no  more  spiritual 
information  to  the  ordinary  spectator  than  is  to  be 
obtained  from  the  freshly  laid  palette  of  a painter. 

Emotional  Significance  of  Colour 

It  is  astonishing  the  lengths  to  which  the  literary 
argument  may  carry  an  enthusiast  ; and  an  Art  Editor 
once  told  the  writer  that  the  reason  why  red  or  crimson 
was  the  finest  and  noblest  colour  was  that  this  was  the 
colour  chosen  by  the  Creator  for  the  Life-blood  of 
Man,  and  that  he  derived  this  idea  from  Ruskin.  That 
blood  is  never  seen  until  a wound  is  made — that  the 
appearance  of  the  veins  through  the  skin  in  health  is 
blue — that  brandy  will  call  up  more  of  its  royal  red- 
ness than  the  maiden’s  blush — and  that  until  it  is 
actually  shed  it  may  be  any  colour,  since  colour  is  im- 
perceptible except  by  light  ; that  it  may,  in  fact,  be 
sea-green  until  its  issue  so  far  as  any  aesthetic  consider- 
ations have  to  do  with  the  matter  ; that  a butcher’s 
shop  should  be  the  most  gorgeous  sight  in  the  world 


20 


THOUGHT  FORMS  AND  COLOURS 
except  the  slaughter-house,  the  operating  theatre  and 
the  battle-field,  where  life  blood  is  to  be  seen  at  its 
reddest  and  best  ; and  that  sensitive  persons  faint  at 
the  sight  of  it  should  be  final  so  far  as  that  argument 
goes.  Red  (or  crimson)  is  a gorgeous  colour,  but  it  is 


Der  Cardinal* 


No.  8.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 


associated  at  least  as  much  with  sunset  as  with  sun- 
rise ; and  with  the  dying  leaf  as  with  the  dying  gladi- 
ator. It  is  a lovely  colour  in  itself,  and  these  arguments 
are  absurd  either  in  praise  or  blame  of  it.  Argument 
might  be  maintained  on  the  score  that  the  most  beauti- 
ful reds  we  have  are  vegetable  dyes — the  madders — 
but  crimson  lake  certainly  is  derived  from  some  sort 
of  beetle.  Such  considerations  are  merely  fanciful. 
Splendid  crimsons  are  derived  from  gas-tar.  That 
certain  colours  have  certain  physiological  effects  is 


21 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
true,  that  certain  forms  of  light  affect  microbes  for 
their  good  or  ill  is  a scientific  fact.  A blue  room  has  been 
entered  of  so  vicious  a quality  that  a definite  physical 
antagonism  was  felt,  as  though  vitality  was  being 
sucked  out  and  absorbed.  In  the  same  place  the  red 
of  another  room  exerted  a pressure  as  stifling  as  a bol- 
ster. It  is  possible  that  the  same  taste  would  have 
chosen  some  yellow  equivalent  in  viciousness  to  the 
sinister  red  and  the  blue.  These  sensations  were  en- 
tirely physical  ; the  colours  had  no  significance,  but 
were  simple  distemper  wall  papers  without  pattern  : 
they  were  simply  villainous  colour.  Since  colour  is 
capable  of  this  physiological  effect  even  without  con- 
veying any  associated  idea,  it  is  obvious  that  its  most 
powerful  appeal  will  be  made  more  to  the  senses  than 
to  the  reason,  and  will  have  an  emotional  rather  than 
an  intellectual  significance.  It  is  an  attribute  of  form, 
and  cannot  take  its  place.  If  a child  is  given  a book  of 
outlines  and  a colour  box,  it  may  entertain  itself  and 
us  by  painting  a cow  purple  with  pink  spots  ; yet  the 
cow  will  remain  a cow,  just  as  the  chameleon  was  only 
endeavouring  to  become  a genius  of  its  kind,  a super- 
chameleon, though  it  burst  in  the  attempt  when  it 
tried  to  match  its  surroundings  by  turning  tartan. 

The  Michael  Angelo  in  the  National  Gallery,  where 
the  flatly  prepared  underpainting  of  the  flesh  is  so  in- 
terestingly shown,  is  more  genial  in  its  unfinished  than 
in  its  completed  parts.  The  unfinished  children  are 
much  more  entertaining  in  emerald  green  without 
being  in  the  least  decadent.  But  then  the  outline  is 
secure.  A crow  is  not  less  a crow,  nor  a stoat  less  a 
stoat  when  albinism  takes  place  ; they  are  in  essence 


22 


THOUGHT  FORMS  AND  COLOURS 
the  same.  A pink  and  white  Zulu  with  flaxen  hair  is 
conceivable  as  being  essentially  Zulu : but  no  amount 
of  burnt  cork  will  make  a negro  of  a Dane. 

Mr.  G.  F.  Watts  laid  out  in  conversation  the  theory 
that  anyone  could  learn  to  draw  ; but  that  colour  was 


Dfr  Kramer. 


a gift  with  which  you  had  to  be  born.  Yet  there  is  a 
simple  science  of  colour,  more  simple  perhaps  than  of 
line.  It  is  possible  to  state  if  the  main  scheme  is  green, 
that  a note  either  of  blue  or  of  yellow  will  harmonize 
with  it  : and  so  on  throughout  the  primary  and  second- 
ary colours.  That  if  contrast  rather  than  harmony  is 
called  for,  scarlet  or  green,  or  orange  or  blue,  yellow 
or  purple  will  give  the  most  violent  oppositions — and 
that  suavity  will  be  obtained  by  the  division  of  opposing 

23 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
notes  of  colour  by  the  interposition  either  of  a second- 
ary that  contains  them  both,  or  of  a tertiary.  It  is 
reducible  much  more  to  a mathematical  formula  than 
is  line.  Simple  as  this  may  sound,  the  combinations  of 
colour  are  infinite,  since  the  proportions  of  mixture 
are  infinitely  variable,  but  the  full  value  of  even  its 
emotion-compelling  properties  can  only  be  gained  from 
its  association  with  form. 

Blake  expressed  himself  with  vigour  on  this  subject, 
and  his  remarks  are  quoted  elsewhere. 


24 


CHAPTER  V 


AUTOMATIC  DRAWING  AND  THE  POWER 
OF  SUGGESTION 

IN  experiments  in  automatic  drawing  published  in 
No.  I of  Form,  a tendency  to  a repetition  of  similar 
shapes  and  penstrokes  is  visible  on  analysis ; and  this 
may  be  set  down  rather  to  the  fact  that  the  fingers 
taking  the  line  of  least  resistance,  will  be  affected  by 
the  alternate  play  of  the  flexors  and  extensors  in  such 
a manner  that,  while  the  forearm  remains  at  rest,  a 
radiation  of  strokes  becomes  inevitable  if  the  line  is  to 
remain  continuous.  From  this  will  arise  suggestions  of 
many  organic  forms  in  which  radiation  is  a principle  of 
growth — as  shells,  wings,  hands,  feet,  fur,  and  so  on. 
The  process  seems  to  be  rather  mechanical  than 
mental  ; and  the  thought  is  inevitable,  no  matter  how 
suggestive  such  drawings  may  be  to  their  creator  or 
others  after  they  are  done,  that  the  “ Dreams  and 
Memories  of  the  Gods,”  referred  to  by  the  authors, 
have  little  to  do  with  them.  It  is  muscular  rather  than 
intellectual  automatism  ; its  interest  lies  in  its  sug- 
gestion of  known  forms  or  organisms,  although  in  its 
production  all  thought  or  intention  of  representation 
was  carefully  suppressed.  There  does  come  now  and 
again  at  long  intervals  a happy  state  of  mind  and  body 
when  the  critical  faculties  are  dormant,  when  without 
effort  of  will  or  exercise  of  choice  a drawing  seems 
almost  to  do  itself,  and  the  happy  artist  feels  he  could 
go  on  thus  for  ever.  The  hand  and  brain  are  in  exact 


25 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

harmony  ; the  hand  is  in  no  rebellion,  so  that  the 
mind  itself  seems  to  be  in  the  hand  rather  than  dic- 
tating to  it  from  a distance,  and  to  be  carrying  through 
a transaction  as  smooth  as  thought  itself,  the  emotional, 
physical,  and  intellectual  faculties  all  collaborating.  It 


TiicHcrtzogm* 


No.  10.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 


may  be  that  genius  has  the  secret  of  this  co-ordin- 
ation and  can  induce  it  at  will — it  is  certain  that  this 
state  does  approach  the  ideal  condition  for  the  pro- 
duction of  a work  of  art. 

While  every  work  of  art  calls  for  an  amount  of  in- 
telligence equivalent  in  its  way  to  the  artist’s  in  order 
fully  to  appreciate  it,  a picture  or  drawing  that  leaves 
all  the  creative  work  to  be  done  by  the  imagination  of 
the  spectator  is  a work  rather  more  of  artifice  and  less 
of  art.  There  is  in  the  reminiscences  of  Emily  Soldene 

26 


AUTOMATIC  DRAWING  AND  SUGGESTION 
a story  of  Marius  the  singer  and  his  top  note  that  was 
the  wonder  of  his  time.  Having  sung  the  passage  lead- 
ing up  to  it  he  ran  forward  to  the  footlights,  extended 
his  arms,  threw  back  his  head  and  opened  his  mouth 
— the  fiddles  screamed — and  the  audience  applauded 
with  all  their  might  the  top  note  that  existed  only  in 
their  imagination.  Marius,  having  got  as  high  as  he 
could  go,  indicated  the  rest. 

The  public,  in  fact,  was  hypnotized  en  masse — and 
always  demanded  an  encore  ! 

I have  known  a case  of  the  most  besotted  hypnotism 
to  happen  in  broad  daylight,  in  Park  Street,  Camden 
Town,  close  to  the  trams  and  ’buses.  A man  I knew, 
of  quite  ordinary  Cockney  intelligence,  who  was  in  the 
habit  of  buying  and  selling  all  sorts  of  things  on  com- 
mission, from  grand  pianos  to  a bankrupt  stock  of  red 
braces,  and  who  “ knew  his  way  about,”  told  me  that 
he  had  been  offered  a picture  painted  by  an  old  Dutch 
painter.  Van  Stern — did  I know  the  name  ? The  pic- 
ture, he  said,  was  remarkable,  in  that  while  at  a first 
glance  it  looked  like  an  ordinary  piece  of  still-life — 
just  a bunch  of  grapes  on  a board,  on  a closer  view  on 
every  grape  could  be  seen  landscapes,  mountains,  and, 
most  extraordinary  of  all,  crowds  of  tiny  monks  in  pro- 
cession, or  carousing,  all  made  out  in  the  most  wonder- 
ful and  minute  fashion.  He  had  been  offered  the  pic- 
ture for  fifteen  pounds,  and  thought  it  must  be  a 
bargain — but  before  closing  with  the  offer  he  would 
like  my  opinion — and  my  curiosity  being  aroused,  I 
went  with  him.  The  furniture  and  curio  dealer,  I 
thought,  cast  on  me  no  very  friendly  eye,  but  the 
picture  was  produced  for  my  inspection,  and  my  friend, 

27 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
the  prospective  buyer,  brought  out  a pocket  magnify- 
ing glass  to  aid  me  to  discover  the  monks  and  the 
mountains.  There  they  were  truly  enough  just  like 
Marius’  top  note,  in  his  own  hypnotized  imagination. 
The  picture  was  the  poorest  daub,  not  worth  the  grubby 


Dcr  Bdpfi, 


No.  11.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 


frame  in  which  it  was.  As  we  walked  away  he  owned 
that  he  hadn’t  liked  to  contradict  the  fraudulent  old 
thief  by  himself,  and  had  ended  by  believing  what  he 
was  told,  though  he  couldn’t  really  see  it,  but  had  been 
ashamed  to  admit  his  own  lack  of  vision. 

Of  recent  years  it  has  been  possible  to  account  for 
a great  deal  of  the  work  that  passes  muster  with  the 
critics  and  the  public  on  no  other  grounds  than  this. 
The  critics  who  found  out  how  absurd  they  had  in  the 
bulk  made  themselves  over  Whistler,  appear  to  have 

28 


AUTOMATIC  DRAWING  AND  SUGGESTION 
been  afraid  of  committing  themselves  again — “ Once 
bitten  twice  shy” — and,  knowing  their  ignorance,  have 
been  anxious  to  conceal  it,  not  by  a critical  cautious- 
ness, but  by  running  cheering  by  the  side  of  any  band 
that  happened  along  with  a big  drum. 

It  is  a curious  thing  that  pictures  are  more  generally 
appreciated  through  the  ear  than  through  the  eye. 
People  like  to  be  told  all  about  them — “ observe  this  ” 
and  “ observe  that,”  and  the  other — generally  insig- 
nificant or  irrelevant  detail  or  “ finish  ” or  “ likeness.” 

Artists  have  endeavoured  to  purify  art  by  leaving 
out  all  such  sops  to  the  uncultivated  intelligence  ; and 
in  their  endeavour  to  appeal  to  the  aesthetics  of  the 
eye  only  did  at  first  bewilder  the  crowd  and  the  critics 
who  belong  to  it.  At  first  sight  a thing  that  is  simply 
beautiful  must  appear  empty  to  an  eye  that  has  grown 
to  value  a picture  as  it  would  appraise  a bazaar  stall, 
by  the  multitude  of  objects  it  contains.  But  once  having 
been  brought  to  the  point  of  seeing  that  beauty  must 
be  simple,  this  attribute,  simplicity,  may  be  mistaken 
for  beauty  itself.  The  door  is  then  open  to  the  char- 
latan, who  has  no  more  to  do  than  to  scrawl  or  blot  a 
sheet  of  paper,  and  bid  the  public,  through  the  voice  of 
the  critic,  to  find  the  naked  soul  and  body  of  Truth  and 
Beauty  displayed  in  all  its  purity. 

Here  we  have  Marius’  top  note  and  the  Camden 
Town  monks  and  mountains  all  over  again  ; the  public 
listening,  enraptured,  to  nothing,  and  staring  spell- 
bound into  vacancy!  Doing,  in  fact,  everything  itself 
and  calling  “ encore  I ” It  is  hypnotism  pure  and  simple, 
and  the  artist  is  in  danger  of  becoming  involved  with 
the  charlatan,  the  crystal  gazer,  and  the  quack. 

29 


CHAPTER  VI 


OBJECT  AND  SUBJECT 

Any  art  that  contains  or  suggests  a reference  to 
something  outside  itself  to  the  extent  that  it 
depends  for  its  interest  upon  that  reference  may 
be  said  to  be  an  illustration  whenever  the  reference  is  to 
a fact  or  to  an  idea  expressible  in  other  terms.  The  idea 
contained  may  be  entirely  original  to  the  artist,  yet  it  will 
be  none  the  less  an  illustration,  and  it  is  difficult  to  name 
a work  short  of  a meaningless  pattern  that  does  not  fall 
into  the  category.  A drawing  that  suggests  something 
like  a man  in  some  distant  way,  but  depends  mainly 
for  its  interest  on  rhythm,  pattern  or  colour,  may  be 
almost  able  to  escape  falling  inside  our  definition  ; 
but  let  it  pretend  to  likeness  or  portraiture  of  a par- 
ticular man  or  place,  part  of  its  interest  being  external 
to  its  lines,  tones  or  colours,  yet  expressed  by  them, 
and  it  immediately  becomes  an  illustration.  If  this  is 
granted  of  facts,  it  will  the  more  readily  be  accepted  as 
true  of  ideas,  conveyed  by  the  same  means,  so  long  as 
there  is  any  attempt  at  precision  of  expression  on  the 
part  of  the  artist. 

The  cricket  captain  hardly  realizes  to  what  an  extent 
his  fate  depends  upon  objective  and  subjective  art  ; 
yet  the  mighty  question  of  “ winning  the  toss  ” de- 
pends on  whether  objective  or  subjective  art  shall  fall 
uppermost — the  illustration  of  fact  or  the  illustration 
of  idea — “ Heads  ” — objective ; “ Tails  ” — subjective. 
This  is  worth  while  examining  a little  further. 

30 


OBJECT  AND  SUBJECT 
Let  us  take  a coin  of  Queen  Victoria,  1886  or  earlier, 
and  examine  the  head — it  was  doubtless  somewhat 
like  her  once — but  in  spite  of  a certain  objectivity,  the 
artist  has  so  modified  this,  that,  and  the  other,  in  his 
presentment  that  till  the  coinage  was  modernized  at 


No.  12.  Holbein.  The  Dance  of  Death. 

It  is  pleasant  to  find  that  so  precise  a person  as 
Holbein  could  put  a left  hand  on  a right  arm. 

the  time  of  the  Jubilee,  objectivity  threatened  to  yield 
almost  entirely  to  subjectivity. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  coin  we  have  Britannia — 
an  abstract  idea  presented  in  concrete  terms — the  ideal 
realized  to  a certain  extent  ; but  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  the  artist  had  a sitter,  and  may  even  have  made 
an  exact  portrait  of  the  lady,  probably  more  like  her, 
while  making  no  profession  of  being  so,  than  the  so- 
called  portrait  of  Queen  Victoria  was  like  the  Queen. 

31 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

The  portraits  of  Gainsborough  at  times  contain  so 
much  of  the  painter  and  so  little  of  the  sitter  that  we 
may  frequently  enough  be  in  doubt  whether  to  class 
them  primarily  as  objective  or  subjective  ; yet  the 
blowsy  goddesses  of  Rubens,  while  professedly  sub- 
jective, leave  us  in  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  which  side 
of  the  fence  their  weight  will  fall. 

All  illustrative  art  will  be  found  to  contain  varying 
proportions  of  these  two  factors.  Though  one  or  the 
other  may  be  found  to  be  almost  entirely  absent,  some 
slight  infusion  of  one  into  the  other  is  inevitable,  even 
in  work  so  subjective,  let  us  say,  as  Beardsley’s  or  so 
objective  as  Menzel’s,  though  in  both  cases,  this  in- 
fusion is  as  nearly  as  possible  absent.  It  is  the  varying 
balance  that  is  maintained  between  these  two  factors 
which  will  decide  the  sympathetic  or  antagonistic 
attitude  of  the  spectator,  as  it  answers  to  his  own  mood 
or  otherwise.  The  work  of  Beardsley  may  annoy  to 
fury  the  matter-of-fact  ; yet  be  beloved  of  the  sophis- 
ticated. The  work  of  Menzel  may  contain  nothing  for 
the  spiritual  minded  and  mystic,  while  delighting  the 
prosaic  historian.  Charles  Keene  and  Phil  May,  stand- 
ing midway  and  dealing  with  aesthetic  problems  of 
expression  in  different  ways,  were  each  popular,  for 
their  humour  appealed  to  the  mass  ; but  the  prob- 
lems of  impressionism  which  Charles  Keene  dealt 
with  at  times,  interfered  to  some  extent  with  his  popu- 
larity ; while  Phil  May,  by  dealing  with  atmospheric 
effect  in  so  summary  a manner  as  almost  to  dismiss  it, 
introduced  no  disturbing  element,  and  required  no 
subtlety  on  the  part  of  the  spectator  to  see  his  ex- 
cellence. Feminine  grace  will  naturally  appeal  to  the 


32 


No.  13.  Durer.  Woodcut. 

A great  tapestry,  based  largely  on  this  design,  was  shown  in  the  Spanish 
Exhibition  at  the  Royal  Academy,  1920-21. 


33 


D 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
majority,  and  the  nearer  this  approaches  to  the  common 
idea,  fashionable  at  the  moment,  the  wider  will  be  the 
appeal. 

No  artist’s  work  is  dull  if  this  tug-of-war  is  going  on 
inside  his  brain  ; if  the  rope  is  kept  taut  between  the 
objective  and  the  subjective.  The  slacker  it  becomes 
the  nearer  we  get  to  uninspired  craftsmanship,  which 
is  the  machinery  of  art  and  not  art  itself.  The  crafts- 
manship may  be  perfect,  as  in  the  work  of  Bartolozzi, 
who  was  as  glib  as  possible  at  great  expense  of  mean- 
ing, or  to  seek,  as  in  the  work  of  Blake,  with  whom  it 
was  a perpetual  stumbling  block,  landing  him  nearly 
into  incoherence,  like  an  insufficiently  educated  person 
who  has  not  the  words  to  convey  his  meaning.  But  no 
matter  how  perfect  the  craftsman  may  be,  he  can  never 
give  more  delight  by  his  craft  alone  than  the  cabinet- 
maker’s perfect  drawer  work. 

Craftsmanship  can  be  learnt  ; and  is  taught,  but  its 
employment  is  a spiritual  matter  peculiar  to  the  artist, 
whose  language  it  is — his  means  of  expression  and  not 
his  aim. 

Idealism  and  Realism 

Art  has  generally  been  divided  roughly  under  two 
headings.  Idealism  and  Realism  ; but  these  terms  have 
been  so  frequently  misapplied  as  to  be  consequently 
in  danger  of  being  misunderstood.  There  was  endless 
controversy  over  the  exact  meaning  of  the  word  Im- 
pressionism, maintaining  as  it  did  a nice  poise  between 
the  objective  and  the  subjective  elements,  but  this  is 
now  well  understood.  Idealism  came  to  stand,  with 
most  people,  for  something  that  amounted  to  no  more 

34 


No.  14.  Durer.  Durer  rarely  if  ever  introduces  “local  colour.” 


35 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
than  an  alteration  and  falsification  in  the  representa- 
tion of  an  object  along  the  lines  of  a preference.  The 
leaving  out  in  a portrait  of  a lady’s  wrinkles  and  double 
chin  is  not  “ idealization,”  but  flattery.  Flattery  does 
not  produce  an  ideal,  and  will  not  in  itself  make  the 
result  either  good  or  bad  art.  Our  concern  is  to  dis- 
cover whether  the  artist  looks  primarily  outwards  or 
inwards  for  his  subject  matter — whether  for  an  abstrac- 
tion of  thought,  or  for  an  aspect  of  an  external  thing 
seen.  For  the  expression  of  abstract  thought  it  will  be 
found  necessary  to  employ  some  recognisable  object  or 
objects  as  a symbol  or  symbols  in  such  a relation  as  to 
enforce  the  idea — these  symbols  may  be  expressed  in 
terms  of  the  closest  realism — while  the  artist’s  primary 
aim  has  not  been  to  record  the  impression  caused  through 
his  eye,  still  less  a deceptive  realism  of  effect ; his  con- 
cern having  lain  with  their  inner  meaning  and  not 
their  aspect.  Under  this  head  will  be  placed  the  work 
of  Michael  Angelo,  Diirer,  and  Blake,  in  descending 
scale  to  Beardsley,  and  the  cartoonist  of  the  daily  press. 
The  other  great  division  is  that  in  which  the  artist  is 
concerned  primarily  with  the  aspect  of  external  things 
rather  than  with  any  meaning  they  may  possess  for 
him  or  for  others.  His  emphasis  will  generally  fall 
where  his  preoccupation  lies — on  form,  light,  colour, 
tone,  extracting  from  the  infinite  variety  of  the  spect- 
acle such  things  as  most  gratify  his  sense  of  sight,  and 
in  such  a manner  that  he  can  communicate  his  im- 
pression of  them  to  other  minds.  Under  this  head  would 
most  naturally  fall  the  work  of  Velasquez,  Rembrandt, 
Gainsborough  to  Menzel,  Charles  Keene,  and  Phil 
May.  There  is  a large  class  of  work  lying  midway  with 

36 


OBJECT  AND  SUBJECT 
a tendency  balancing  more  or  less  between  one  side  or 
the  other — as  example  Hogarth— who  might  be 
matched  in  literature  with  Bunyan,  two  curiously 
prosaic  minds  stringing  their  facts  together  on  the 
thread  of  a moral  and  dramatic  idea,  and  both  pecu- 
liarly English  in  the  compromise,  Whistler  looked  upon 
Hogarth  as  the  father  of  English  art,  or  at  least  as  the 
first  great  and  typically  English  artist.  It  is  interesting 
that  Blake  and  Whistler  should  combine  in  this  point 
of  appreciation. 

The  English  love  of  a picture  that  tells  a recognis- 
able story,  where  the  people  are  represented  as  doing, 
having  done,  or  about  to  do  something  even  though  it 
is  expressed  in  the  crudest  and  least  aesthetic  terms, 
may  date  from  Hogarth,  and  this  love  has  frequently 
been  indulged  to  the  detriment  of  the  true  aesthetic 
functions  of  the  pictorial  artist. 


37 


CHAPTER  VII 


VIVID  VISION  OF  FACTS 

The  pendulum  swings  perpetually  between  an 
acceptance  and  recreation  of  the  visible  world, 
and  the  imposition  of  a world  of  idea  from 
which,  no  matter  how  much  it  has  derived  from  the 
world  of  fact,  the  visible  world  has  been  put  away  as 
far  as  may  be. 

There  is  a point  in  the  swing,  where,  to  the  happy, 
the  world  of  fact  and  the  world  of  vision  coincide. 
These  are  the  golden  moments  of  art,  when  the  mind 
can  bask  as  in  a high-walled  garden.  Everyone  has  his 
his  own  garden  of  delights,  in  which  he  can  surrender 
to  a secret  enchantment. 

To  some  Uccello’s  great  battle  scene,  Botticelli’s 
Madonna  and  Child,  Nicolo  Pisano’s  St.  Eustace, 
Millais’  Autumn  Leaves  or  Sir  Isumbras,  a Chinese 
vase  or  a Japanese  print,  Whistler’s  Little  White  Girl, 
or  the  Music  Room — a blue  landscape  by  Patinir — 
any  or  all  of  these  may  bring  the  sense  of  glamorous 
contentment. 

There  is  a moment  now  and  again  vouchsafed  when 
seeing  does  in  itself  approach  to  ecstasy,  when  the  thing 
seen  is  felt  to  contain  the  divine  essence  communi- 
cated by  sight.  In  these  moments  of  happy  receptivity 
the  commonest  object  discharges  its  most  vivid  signifi- 
cance, and  it  may  be  from  repeated  experiences  of  this 
kind  that  the  Pantheistic  idea  takes  its  origin  ; and 

38 


4 

No.  15.  Durer.  What  “colour”  Durer  obtains  is  derived  generally  from 
modelling  of  form  and  a somewhat  arbitrary  use  of  shadow  or  shade. 


39 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
that  later  these  ideas  being  simplified,  the  idea  of  One 
universal  God  and  the  Immanence  of  God  came  about. 
With  these  states  of  vivid  experience  goes  the  sense  of 
the  community  of  life  with  a flower,  an  animal  or  a 
tree,  a sense  sometimes  of  the  infinite  intelligence 
peering  through  some  tiny  keyhole  as  in  a game  of  “ I 
spy  ” so  vividly  felt  that  it  is  as  though  it  were  a glow- 
ing secret  shared  with  the  object  through  or  by  which 
it  appears  to  be  communicated.  Children  start  with 
this  intensity  of  vision,  which  too  often  fades  with  the 
years,  or  becomes  clouded  in  the  crush.  “ The  world 
is  too  much  with  us  ” ; but  the  Pre-Raphaelites, 
mediaeval  and  modern,  had  this  vision  which  gives 
their  work  its  value.  It  is  not  the  multitude  or  the 
“ finish  ” of  the  facts  presented,  but  the  intensity  with 
which  they  have  been  seen  that  lifts  such  work  from 
the  prose  of  Menzel  to  the  poetry  of  Millais’  early 
work. 

A house  agent  with  whom  I fell  into  a chance  con- 
versation told  me  that  when  serving  in  the  war  he  was 
in  Italy  ; and  in  training  there,  practising  a bayonet 
charge  and  yelling,  when  the  Tommy  next  to  him  sud- 
denly gasped  out,  “ My  God  ! isn’t  it  just  like  a picture 
in  the  National  Gallery — all  them  little  trees  on  them 
hills.”  His  own  thought  was  simultaneous  ; he  had 
thought  the  “ backgrounds  to  those  Madonnas,”  a bit 
on  one  side  of  a brocaded  canopy  and  a bit  on  the 
other,  some  “ squint-eyed  ” convention,  till  he  came 
upon  the  reality  in  this  vivid  way  himself.  Probably 
now  it  is  not  so  much  Nature  but  Art  that  has  taken  a 
new  significance  for  him.  But  something  must  have  got 
home  to  these  two  independent  Cockney  minds  making 


40 


VIVID  VISION  OF  FACTS 
a bored  stroll  through  the  National  Gallery  on  a wet 
half-holiday,  for  it  to  strike  again  in  such  a situation 
when  the  senses  might  be  expected  to  be  little  open  to 
impressions  from  outside.  Tennyson’s  observation  : 
“ Strange  that  the  mind  when  fraught  With  a passion 
so  intense  That  it  should  from  being  so  overwraught 
Suddenly  strike  on  a sharper  sense  For  a shell  or  a 
flower — little  things  That  else  would  have  been  passed 
by”  — is  well  borne  out  here,  although  the  battle  was 
only  a mimic  one. 

In  art  all  the  desirable  qualities  of  craftsmanship  com- 
bined may  not  suffice  to  convey  this  emotion  without 
some  such  passionate  quality  of  vision,  which  seems  to 
accept  all,  rather  than  to  select  and  reject,  yet  is  never 
mechanical  in  its  acceptance.  I have  heard  J.  F.  Lewis 
spoken  of  as  having  the  Pre-Raphaelite  qualities.  He  had 
more  than  all  their  qualities  of  exact  and  minute  repre- 
sentation, probably  a more  subtle  vision  and  certainly  a 
more  facile  brush,  and  something  that  remains  aromatic 
in  the  mind  after  many  years.  He  could  introduce  and 
keep  in  its  place  there,  with  apparent  ease,  more  detail 
to  the  square  inch  than  any  of  them.  He  had  more  than 
all  their  qualities,  but  this  one  of  intensity  ; and,  ex- 
quisite as  some  of  his  pictures  are,  they  do  not  convey 
that  sense  of  fervid  ecstasy  and  significance  which  is 
derivable  from  this  highest  type  of  objective  vision, 
in  which  a definite  yet  elusive  something  more  is  com- 
municated than  the  physical  effect  on  the  eye.  This 
high  objective  vision  is  more  truly  imaginative  than 
many  pontifical  works  that  lay  pompous  claim  to  that 
high  title — which  frequently  enough  are  simply  a 
combination  of  the  stock  in  trade  of  fancy — Justice, 

41 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
Fortitude,  and  such,  in  shining  armour,  and  wings  and 
things  by  the  glibly  oiled  machinery  of  the  high-artist. 

Imagination  does  not  necessarily  fly  away  from 
“ facts.”  But  there  are  two  kinds  of  imagination — one 
that  looks  outward  for  its  image,  and  another  that  looks 
inward.  Blake’s  work  would  have  been  the  richer  and 
the  better  could  he  have  used  his  objective  vision  with 
greater  reverence,  instead  of  with  a saintly  contempt 
for  it,  as  a hindrance.  It  was  the  great  defect  of  his 
great  quality.  At  another  period  than  the  one  in  which 
he  worked,  when  exactitude  of  observation  was  as 
nothing  to  the  “ grand  manner  ” and  strict  draughts- 
manship at  a discount,  he  might  by  absorption  of 
another  atmosphere  have  been  able  to  express  himself 
with  no  less  torrential  a passion,  perhaps  with  greater 
force,  and  certainly  with  more  lucidity  than  he  gener- 
ally employed.  It  cannot  be  insisted  on  too  much  that 
imagination  is  not  a woolly  affair  outside  reason  ; but 
pointed  and  sharp-edged.  It  is  not  a matter  between 
waking  and  sleeping — a confusion  of  misty  moons  and 
dim  stars,  but  of  clear  hard  day,  to  which  all  the  facul- 
ties of  the  mind  contribute.  The  misconception  must 
be  guarded  against  that  what  has  been  written  about 
the  highest  qualities  of  “ objective  vision  and  “ sig- 
nificance ” is  intended  to  convey  the  idea  that  art  has 
any  “ preaching  ” or  moralizing  mission.  On  the  con- 
trary, any  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  artist  at  what  in 
America  is  called  “ uplift  ” is  damnable.  Art  has,  or 
may  have,  indirectly  a civilizing  influence,  but  that  is 
accidental  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  artist.  The 
artist  who  goes  into  the  pulpit  goes  into  competition 
with  the  scold,  and  he  should  compete  with  nothing. 


42 


No.  16.  Durer. 


43 


CHAPTER  VIII 


FORM  AND  LINE 

Technique 

The  shape  of  the  space  occupied  by  any  object 
animate  or  inanimate  is  that  by  which  it  is 
primarily  and  finally  differentiated  from  others. 
It  is  tangible  in  the  dark — a blind  man  may  know  it  by 
touch — and  a line  that  will  mark  off  this  limit  of  occupied 
space  will  be  the  simplest  means  of  recording  on  a flat 
surface  its  existence  and  kind.  The  comparative  bulk 
and  shape  of  objects  is  of  the  first  importance  ; and, 
so  far  as  appearances  go,  all  other  qualities  are  attributes 
of  that  shape  and  bulk.  Length,  breadth,  and  to  a certain 
extent  thickness,  are  expressible  by  means  of  the  con- 
tour  line  of  an  object  as  it  strikes  the  retina,  and  by 
this  line  it  will  be  most  generally  recognisable. 

In  speaking  of  line,  strictly  rather  than  suggestively 
used,  it  is  a convenience  to  call  this  primary  line  de- 
limiting an  object  the  Noun  or  Substantive  line  ; and 
all  others  included  within  its  boundary  by  which  the 
surface  is  qualified  or  modified,  “ adjective  lines,” 
and  the  value  of  these  depends  upon  their  aptness  of 
application  to  the  particular  noun  they  qualify.  It  is 
important  in  pictorial  art  as  in  literary  that  the  mascuUne 
force  of  the  noun  should  not  be  frittered  away  under 
lacy,  hesitant,  or  belittling  qualifications.  The  line  of 
movement  or  growth,  or  of  the  action  of  a figure  or  of 
rhythm  in  a composition  corresponds  to  the  verb. 

An  important  point  to  consider  is  the  thickness  of 

44 


FORM  AND  LINE 

this  line.  Its  power  should  be  sufficient  in  the  first 
place  to  be  readily  seen  at  the  intended  focus  of  the 
drawing,  and  to  dominate  the  space  it  occupies,  and 
not  be  swamped  by  it.  A thin  line  is  sometimes  re- 
garded as  an  object  to  be  aimed  at  for  its  own  sake  as 
being  “ delicate  ” or  “ refined  ” and  a thick  line  as 
being  “ coarse  ” or  “ brutal.”  Neither  thickness  nor 
thinness  of  line  has  any  particular  virtue  except  in 
relation  to  the  space  it  occupies,  and  the  purpose  of  its 
employment.  If  it  is  a line  that  is  intended  to  “ carry  ” 
as  an  individual,  it  should  have  sufficient  force  or  thick- 
ness to  do  so — but  if  it  is  to  form  part  of  a group  of 
lines  it  must  do  team  work,  and  not  be  obstreperous  in 
the  chorus.  A common  fault  in  line  drawings  is  that 
the  first  lines  set  down  are  lacking  in  force.  In  con- 
sequence it  is  difficult  to  subordinate  other  lines  to 
them,  so  that  much  subsequent  work  goes  towards 
bolstering  up  the  primaries  in  an  effort  to  disentangle 
them  from  the  confusion  that  results  where  such  a 
course  has  been  followed.  If  the  primary  lines  are  thin, 
still  thinner  lines  will  be  required  to  qualify  them  ; 
and,  while  theoretically  there  is  no  limit  to  this  thin- 
ness, in  practice  there  is  a very  definite  one,  and  the 
draughtsman  finds  that  he  is  left  with  nothing  “ up 
his  sleeve,”  having  exhausted  his  store  too  early.  It  is 
remarkable  how  bold  a line  is  the  basis  of  many  appar- 
ently “ delicate  ” drawings,  for  by  the  time  all  quali- 
fications have  been  added,  and  secondary  forms  on  a 
more  distant  plane  introduced,  the  “ noun  ” line  must 
have  considerable  force  to  hold  its  dominant  place  in 
the  composition. 

This  is  noticeable  in  the  case  of  almost  any  of  Phil 

45 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


May’s  drawings,  which  depend  for  their  effect 
principally  on  the  use  of  a system  of  thick  outline  for 
foreground  figures,  with  an  outline  of  similar  character 
for  distant  objects,  but  growing  thinner  in  proportion 
to  the  distance.  These  outlines  are  drawn  with  a pen 


•^tertMUfajicn  mctxnitxmidimt'wettn 


"Vwwa. 


INAIIACO 


No.  17.  Hans  Burgkmair. 


that  normally  would  yield  the  thickness  required 
without  much  pressure  on  the  one  hand,  or  an  undue 
nervousness  of  handling  to  induce  a line  thinner  than 
the  natural  stroke  of  the  pen.  A finer  pen  is  then  taken, 
and  the  modelling  of  the  faces,  fine  shadows,  and  quite 
distant  objects  introduced  with  as  slight  expenditure 
of  nerve  in  doing  battle  with  the  instrument  as  need 
be.  Local  colour  is  simply  and  boldly  suggested  by 
practically  flat  spaces  of  more  or  less  parallel  lines  with 
little  or  no  modelling,  sometimes  even  by  solid  black. 
Light  and  shade  are  introduced  only  to  give  solidity 

46 


FORM  AND  LINE 

to  form,  and  local  colour  for  the  sake  of  pattern,  and 
the  avoidance  of  thinness  or  monotony  of  effect. 

Pens 


A pen  drawing  should  not  be  undertaken  without 


No.  18.  Hans  Burgkmair. 


an  assortment  of  pens  in  good  working  order  ready  at 
hand  in  penholders  laid  out — their  points  towards  the 
artist  so  that  he  may  immediately  pick  out  a suitable 
one  for  his  purpose.  For  an  ordinary  sized  drawing 
(up  to,  say,  quarter  imperial),  a Waverley  (Macniven 
and  Cameron)  and  a Gillot’s  303  prove  highly  service- 
able. Phil  May  was  very  pleased  with  a pen  called  the 
“ Camel  ” for  his  strongest  outlines — I forget  the  name 
of  the  maker,  but  it  may  still  be  obtainable.  It  was  a 
very  free  working  pen,  with  a turned  up  point,  which 
made  a broader  stroke  than  the  Waverley — and  had 

47 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

an  arrangement  for  carrying  a good  load  of  ink  without 
blotting. 

The  most  exciting  pen  to  use  is  Brandaur’s  518, 
which  was  originally  made  specially  for  lithographers 
for  work  upon  stone.  It  is  cut  from  a narrow  strip  of 
very  thin  steel,  and  has  only  the  tiniest  slit  at  the  tip, 
which  is  extraordinarily  fine.  With  this  pen  it  is  possible 
to  execute  the  minutest  work,  or  by  exercising  pressure 
to  obtain  a line  of  considerable  thickness,  or  by  using 
the  pen  sideways  to  get  a stroke  from  the  whole  or  part 
of  the  side  running  up  to  the  tip  ; but  woe  betide  the 
drawing  if  the  point,  which  is  as  sharp  as  a pin,  should 
catch  in  the  paper,  for  the  most  terrific  splutter  is 
certain  to  result.  It  is  a wonderful  pen,  and  for  gym- 
nastics in  penmanship,  for  richness  or  fineness  has  no 
equal,  but  it  requires  sensitive  handling  and  a smooth 
surface  for  drawing  upon.  If  great  flexibility  of  line  is 
aimed  at  with  sensitive  variations  or  gradations  of 
thickness  in  the  length  of  the  line  it  has  no  equal,  the 
characteristic  result  of  its  employment  being  not  unlike 
a drypoint  where  the  burr  has  been  freely  used. 

The  “ J ” type  of  pen  is  very  useful  for  certain  pur- 
poses. It  is  best  to  accept  the  width  of  its  tip  as  the 
greatest  thickness  of  line  it  will  yield,  rather  than  to 
apply  pressure.  By  using  it  sideways  a very  fine  line 
can  be  obtained  ; so  that  if  it  is  desired  it  is  possible 
to  draw  a curve  gradating  in  thickness  from  the  full 
breadth  of  the  tip  to  a very  fine  stroke,  not  by  variation 
of  pressure  but  of  direction,  and  so  yielding  a result 
not  unlike  that  of  the  work  done  by  the  elder  stylists 
with  their  quill  or  reed  pens  before  the  introduction 
of  the  steel  nib. 


48 


FORM  AND  LINE 

For  decorative  purposes  such  as  Aubrey  Beardsley’s, 
a stiffish,  not  ver}’^  flexible,  pen  is  the  preferable  instru- 
ment, and  one  that  will  hold  a good  supply  of  ink,  in 


No.  19.  Hans  Burgkmair.  Detail  of  Woodcut,  remarkable  for  richness 
of  colour  achieved  by  simple  means. 


order  to  get  the  whole  of  a long  line  in  one  rhythmic 
stroke,  otherwise  the  line  may  be  broken  ; and  if  this 
is  not  avoided  there  is  considerable  expenditure  of 
nerve  in  resuming  the  line,  and  since  pen  drawing 

49 


E 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
necessarily  is  a nervous  task,  any  unnecessary  ex- 
penditure should  be  avoided. 

Paper 

For  the  same  reason  it  is  essential  that  both  pens 
and  ink  should  be  in  good  condition,  and  the  right  sort 
of  paper  or  cardboard  chosen  for  the  work  in  hand.  A 
smooth  surface  is  necessary  for  a fine  unbroken  line 
and  close  work,  but  if  this  is  not  requisite  a certain 
amount  of  “ tooth,”  just  sufficient  to  give  a slight 
resistance  to  the  pen  and  prevent  a sense  of  slipperiness, 
is  pleasanter  to  work  upon,  the  sensation  being  com- 
parable to  the  etcher’s  as  his  needle  curds  through 
the  wax  of  the  ground.  For  photographic  reproduction 
a clean  line  “ comes  ” best,  as  if  a line  is  composed  of  a 
series  of  dots,  some  of  the  dots  are  apt  to  be  eaten 
away  ; or  on  the  other  hand,  if  they  are  very  close 
together,  the  printing  ink  may  fill  up  the  interstices. 
If  the  drawing  is  a bold  one,  these  defects  are  generally 
so  minute  as  to  have  little  effect  on  the  general  result, 
and  may  be  almost  disregarded.  It  is  better  to  risk 
these  minor  mechanical  defects  than  allow  the  possi- 
bility of  them  to  hamper  the  freedom  of  the  draughts- 
manship. 

If  an  elaborate  pencil  drawing  has  been  made  upon 
the  paper  which  is  to  carry  the  final  pen  drawing,  any 
superfluity  of  lead  should  be  removed  before  starting 
the  drawing  in  ink,  rather  than  after  the  drawing  is 
apparently  complete,  since,  in  the  latter  case,  it  maybe 
found  that  the  lead  has  prevented  the  ink  in  places 
from  soaking  into  the  paper,  and  only  a grey  and  ragged 
stain  is  left,  which  may  have  to  be  gone  over  again  in  ink. 

50 


FORM  AND  LINE 

It  is  generally  better  in  laying  a tone  of  more  or  less 
horizontal  lines  to  start  with  the  uppermost  and  con- 
tinue downwards,  not  only  because  the  work  done  is 
seen  better,  but  to  prevent  the  ink  hanging  below  the 
pen  from  catching  the  still  wet  ink  standing  up  on  the 
line  below,  as  frequently  happens  unless  this  pre- 
caution is  taken,  and  a thick  line  results  where  two  thin 
ones  were  intended.  For  the  same  reason,  if  the  draughts- 
man is  right-handed,  he  should  start  any  vertical  series 
of  lines  at  the  left  and  work  towards  the  right — a left- 
handed  artist  would,  of  course,  start  from  the  right. 
There  is  always  a risk  of  smudging  the  work  unless 
these  precautions  are  taken,  and  smudges,  by  a curious 
perversity,  generally  fall  where  they  are  most  difficult 
to  remove. 

The  surface  of  the  paper  should  be  carefully  handled, 
particularly  if  it  is  a smooth  one  like  Bristol  Board,  as 
it  may  become  greasy  if  much  fingered,  and  so  reject 
ink  altogether  or  in  part. 

Ink 

Many  artist’s  colourmen  put  up  so-called  “ Chinese” 
or  ” Indian  ” ink  in  bottles,  and  there  are  several 
well-known  brands  which  save  the  trouble  of  working 
it  up  from  the  stick  in  the  old  way.  There  are  also 
brands  of  waterproof  ink,  which  are  useful  if  it  is  pro- 
posed to  use  pen  as  the  basis  of  a wash  or  colour  draw- 
ing. These  are  apt  to  corrode  and  clog  the  legs  of  the 
pen  very  rapidly,  so  that  they  are  not  always  an  advan- 
tage in  use. 

These  bottled  inks  should  always  be  well  shaken 
before  being  uncorked  for  the  first  time,  as  they 

51 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
sometimes  become  syrupy  if  they  have  stood  long  ; and 
the  pen  may  come  from  the  bottle  with  a long  ropy 
mass  hanging  to  it,  quite  unfit  for  use  in  that  condition, 
but  which  dissolves  if  well  shaken. 

The  price  of  these  inks,  always  a consideration,  became 
so  high  during  and  after  the  war  that  a thoroughly 
efficient  substitute  may  be  welcomed  in  Stevens’ 
Ebony  Stain,  which  is  in  some  ways  preferable  in  the 
working  as  well  as  being  incomparably  cheaper.  It  may 
be  used  for  the  finest  pen  work,  as  it  is  very  free  run- 
ning ; but  it  is  not  waterproof,  and  should  not  be  used 
where  it  is  proposed  to  mix  methods.  The  best  plan  is 
to  pour  out  a moderate  quantity  into  a small  bottle 
from  the  jar,  and  to  renew  this  from  time  to  time,  as 
it  thickens  by  evaporation — the  fresher  it  is  the  more 
freely  it  works.  All  inks  should  be  corked  when  not  in 
use  for  this  reason,  as  well  as  to  prevent  dust  getting 
to  them. 

If  ink  is  not  poured  out  of  the  ordinary  small  up- 
right bottles,  in  which  it  is  usually  supplied,  into  one 
with  a larger  base,  it  will  almost  inevitably  be  upset 
sooner  or  later.  The  ink  is  wasted,  and  besides  the 
mess  and  loss  of  temper,  if  books  or  drawings  are  lying 
about  much  damage  may  be  done.  It  is  wise,  there- 
fore, to  take  some  such  precaution  as  the  following. 
Place  the  bottle  in  the  centre  of  a piece  of  stout  card- 
board about  five  or  six  inches  square,  and  draw  its 
plan  upon  the  card  by  running  the  point  of  a pencil 
closely  round  it.  Cut  out  the  shape  thus  marked  in  the 
centre  so  that  the  bottle  can  only  just  be  thrust  through 
the  hole  ; then  fit  the  cardboard  upon  the  bottle  about 
an  inch  from  its  base.  This  collar  will  serve  the  double 


52 


No.  20.  Campagnola.  Early  example  of  facsimile  wood-cutting,  where 
the  accidents  of  penmanship  are  closely  followed. 


53 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
purpose  of  catching  the  drops  of  ink  from  an  over- 
charged pen,  and  also  prevent  the  bottle  from  being 
readily  upset.  A card  thus  prepared  \vill  outlast  many 
bottles  of  ink  and  effect  great  saving  of  ink  and  carpets. 

Reference  Books 

It  is  a good  plan  for  an  illustrator,  besides  carrying 
a sketch-book  at  all  times  in  which  to  jot  down  ideas, 
types,  backgrounds,  and  so  on,  to  make  collections  in 
scrap  books  under  some  simple  system  so  that  they 
may  be  readily  accessible  if  called  upon.  Stores  cata- 
logues, furniture  catalogues,  dressmakers’  circulars, 
the  “ Architect’s  Compendium,”  and  such  like  pro- 
ductions, where  constructional  facts  are  given  prosaic- 
ally but  clearly,  are  often  useful  for  reference. 

Good  illustrated  books  of  Natural  History,  Archi- 
tecture, and  Historic  Costume  should  form  part  of  an 
illustrator’s  equipment. 

Quality  of  Line 

A true  draughtsman  is  interested  in  the  construction, 
character,  and  articulation  of  his  subject,  as  well  as 
the  proportion,  so  that  he  is  never  content  with  a vague 
indication  or  flat  map.  Even  though  he  is  restricted  to 
the  use  of  a single  line,  yet  line  is  capable  of  many 
qualities,  as  slowness  or  tremulousness,  so  that  in  spite 
of  its  apparent  simplicity  it  is,  to  its  lovers,  as  sensitive 
and  as  expressive  as  the  violin.  Volume  is  not  its  prim- 
ary aim,  but  selection,  movement  and  quality  of 
vibration,  so  that  if  we  imagine  a violinist  playing  his 
own  composition  we  have  a close  parallel  with  the  art 
of  the  pen  draughtsman. 


54 


FORM  AND  LINE 

An  excess  of  grace  notes,  or  sliding  from  one  note  to 
another,  has  much  the  same  effect  upon  the  violin  or 
in  singing  that  an  excess  or  curvature  has  in  drawing. 
Though  it  is  often  said,  and  may  be  true,  that  there  is 
no  straight  line  in  nature,  we  may  accept  so  much  of 


the  line  made  by  the  calm  sea  on  the  horizon  as  comes 
within  the  limit  of  distinct  vision  at  a glance,  if  accur- 
ately drawn,  as  sufficiently  straight  for  the  practical 
purposes  of  artistic  expression,  and  any  part  or  parts 
of  it,  and  a ruler  will  have  as  much  curvature  as  is 
necessary  for  its  exact  representation.  Blake  insists 
that  there  is  every  line  in  nature.  If  there  is  not  such  a 
thing,  it  was  necessan.^  to  invent  one.  Einstein’s  theory  is 
popularly  misconceived  to  be  that  straight  lines  are  bent. 


No.  21.  Rubens.  Woodcut  by  Christoffel  Jegher.  An  interesting  example 
of  translation  into  line  in  the  manner  of  an  engraving  on  metal. 


55 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

To  return  to  the  consideration  of  the  weakness  that 
is  frequently  given  by  continuous  unstiffened  curvature. 
It  will  be  found  that  it  is  possible  to  communicate  a 
sense  of  curvature  to  the  whole  of  a straight  line  by  a 
short  curve  ; but  by  no  means  can  a straight  line  pro- 
long its  stiffness  into  the  curve,  but  will  rather  empha- 
size its  significance.  The  artist’s  eye  often  tricks  him 
therefore  in  recording  his  impression  into  a lack  of 
reserve  : his  line  misses  the  pride  of  grace  or  the 
strength  proper  to  it,  and  becomes  weak  and  senti- 
mental on  the  one  hand,  or  robustious  and  podgy  on 
the  other. 

In  the  “ living  ” as  opposed  to  the  “ dead  ” line 
there  is  a quality  of  elasticity  through  its  whole  length, 
as  though  pressure  were  visibly  at  work  in  two  direc- 
tions at  right  angles  to  it,  one  to  press  it  outwards  and 
another  to  keep  it  back.  So  that  where  it  appears  likely 
to  bulge  or  balloon  softly  and  roundly  outwards  it  is 
pressed  and  flattened  back  by  a restraining  force  always 
in  play.  Between  these  two  powers  it  finds  its  way  ; 
sometimes  one  sometimes  the  other  of  these  appearing 
to  get  the  upper  hand,  but  it  is  the  sense  of  these 
antagonistic  pressures  that  gives  the  line  its  living 
quality  even  when  coldly  deliberate,  as  in  the  drawing 
of  Holbein’s  heads.  In  a swiftly  drawn  line,  as  in  one 
of  Helleu’s  early  dry  points,  we  share  a sense  of  risk 
and  the  excitement  of  insecurity  with  the  artist — we 
watch  him  as  we  might  Jessop  hitting  sixes,  it  is  a case 
of  hit  or  miss — while  in  Holbein’s  hands  we  feel  “ safe 
as  the  bank.”  In  one  we  feel  that  the  mind  is  made  up 
in  a flash,  and  the  line  then  cut  in  ; in  the  other  that 
the  stroke  is  deliberately  carried  out  without  haste 

56 


FORM  AND  LINE 

simultaneously  with  the  operation  of  the  thought,  the 
hand  being  all  the  time  guided  by  the  choice  of  the 
brain,  and  never  dictating  the  stroke. 

The  eye  caresses  the  form  and  the  hand  traces  its 
passage  upon  the  paper. 


No.  22.  Rubens.  Woodcut  by  Christoffel  Jegher.  Unusual  inflexibility  of 
line,  and  in  the  amount  of  imitation  of  “cross-hatching”  in  woodcut. 

In  fine  drawing,  no  matter  how  simple  the  line,  its 
next  move  can  never  be  exactly  forecast — it  may  con- 
tinue in  its  course  or  change  its  curve — but  its  con- 
tinuance will  be  as  unexpected  as  its  change.  Holbein’s 
line  never  travels  swiftly  even  at  its  straightest,  but  is 
full  of  incident  along  its  whole  journey.  A line  so 
straight  or  a curve  so  unbroken  that  its  centre  or  foci 
are  obvious  cannot  convey  this  mental  excitement, 

57 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
since  the  mind  is  not  held  in  expectation  or  suspense 
about  a matter  that  appears  obvious.  It  is  like  a journey 
from  point  to  point  in  a sleeping  car — as  though 
there  were  nothing  between  London  and  Edinburgh. 
Hogarth’s  theoretic  “ line  of  beauty  ” might  be  truer 
were  the  two  curves  differently  proportioned  and 
separated  by  a straight  interval.  As  it  is  it  is  too  glib  : 
containing  no  element  of  mystery  or  unexpectedness, 
and  it  lacks  backbone. 

A draughtsman  might  well  spend  a devoted  lifetime 
drawing  the  fairy  grace  and  light  strength  of  the  knotted 
grass  ; the  fern  as  it  uncurls  its  spirals  into  a pastoral 
staff  ; the  long  water  weeds  as,  anchored  to  a common 
centre,  the  free  ends  reach  out  waving  in  an  ever  re- 
current and  harmonious  rhythm  in  the  stream,  or  in  a 
still  pool  copying  the  radiation  of  the  stems  of  the  water 
lily.  There  are  no  more  exquisite  rhythms  than  the 
spirals  and  wreaths  from  the  smoke  of  a cigarette,  or  a 
dance  of  flame  and  sparks  when  the  fire  is  stirred. 
Whether  these  things  be  drawn  or  not,  the  loving 
observation  of  them,  and  even  more  the  pleasure  de- 
rived from  them,  will  consciously  and  unconsciously, 
teach  more  to  the  artist  than  any  treatise  could  hope  to 
begin  to  do.  These  are  things  of  nature’s  own  order- 
ing ; how  or  why  they  should  have  the  effect  upon  our 
minds  that  they  do  is  a mystery  beyond  analysis,  but 
the  cause  of  the  effect  may  be  imitated  by  the  artist, 
not  only  by  drawing  those  objects  in  which  the  effects 
are  obser\^ed  but  by  transferring  like  causes  to  other 
objects,  and  by  this  means  many  beautiful  variations 
will  be  obtained,  yet  all  in  accordance  with  law. 

This  sense  of  an  underlying  rhythm  runs  all  through 

58 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
the  greatest  compositions  in  which  line  or  movement 
plays  any  part. 

Unless  the  quality  of  elasticity  under  pressure  exists 
we  have  a hard  and  metallic  or  wiry  line  of  no  emotional 
value — it  has  no  nerve  in  it,  and  lacks  vitality  of  in- 
terest. This  is  the  touchstone  by  which  noble  draughts- 
manship is  told  from  the  correct  but  coldly  academic 
map  of  shapes  such  as  we  find  in  the  work  of  Leighton 
and  Poynter.  In  Leighton’s  designs  for  Dalziel’s  Bible 
Gallery,  the  “ Cain,”  though  finely  conceited  and 
composed,  misses  its  aim  on  this  account,  and  a drawing 
which  in  more  fervent  hands  might  have  been  a great 
masterpiece,  leaves  the  spectator  unmoved.  The  line 
has  no  vibration,  and  can  cause  no  answering  thrill. 


6o 


CHAPTER  IX 


SYMBOLISM 

Symbolism  is  a matter  that  is  commonly  looked 
upon  as  something  misty  and  vague,  though  its  ob- 
ject is  rather  to  express  vividly  in  simple,  concrete 
and  familiar  terms,  the  abstract,  the  unfamiliar,  the  in- 
visible, and  the  intangible.  The  strategist  at  dinner  will 
explain  the  course  of  a battle  with  a knife  and  a fork  to 
represent  the  trenches,  breadcrumbs  for  battalions,  and  a 
spoon  for  headquarters  ; not  that  any  of  these  bear  the 
least  resemblance  to  the  things  represented,  but  with 
the  aid  of  such  labels  as  he  gives  them  in  his  description 
a much  clearer  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  progress  of 
affairs  than  without  such  simple  aids.  These  are  crude 
s)mibols,  needing  explanation  at  the  outset.  The  in- 
troduction of  the  child’s  wooden  soldiers  will  add  a 
more  obviously  intelligible  symbol  than  the  bread  ; 
and  if  the  knife,  fork  and  spoon  are  similarly  replaced 
upon  a map  of  the  country  a truly  vivid  and  realistic 
idea  may  be  conveyed.  The  chess  board  and  men  doubt- 
less originated  in  some  such  ancient  Kriegspiel — possibly 
between  two  strategists  at  a dinner  table. 

Such,  of  course,  are  simple  examples,  since  to  many 
the  things  represented  by  these  symbols  are  as  familiar 
as  the  symbols  themselves.  It  is  different  when  it  is 
not  a familiar  thing,  but  an  unfamiliar  idea  which  has 
to  be  represented  in  such  ordinary  forms  that  it  may  be 
understood  through  the  eye,  where  an  abstract  thought 

6i 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


1 


No.  24.  Jan  Lievens.  Woodcut.  Fine  example  of  understanding  of 
possibilities  and  limitations  of  the  wood-cutter’s  art. 


has  to  be  presented  in  a concrete  image,  so  that  the 
unknown  may  be  expressed  or  indicated  by  the 
known. 

Symbols  that  have  been  used  for  centuries  have  in 

62 


SYMBOLISM 

many  cases  become  as  familar  and  as  much  part  of  the 
common  stock  as  the  language.  It  is  difficult  to  say  or 
hear  the  word  “ angel  ” without  simultaneously  form- 
ing an  image  of  a winged  being,  so  much  so  that  to 
many  minds  it  might  seem  almost  a sacrilege  to  suggest 
that  this  form  is  not  an  article  of  faith,  though  it  is  no 
more  than  an  artistic  convention  by  which  the  idea  of  a 
messenger  through  space  is  conveyed,  a spirit  presum- 
ably not  being  dependent  on  wings  with  which  to  cleave 
the  air.  Yet  the  wings  convey  the  idea  as  nothing  else 
could.  Time  itself  is  a convention — a fiction  by  which 
we  measure  movement  in  space,  and  is  an  entirely 
relative  matter.  If  the  world  took  suddenly  to  revolving 
more  or  less  rapidly  we  should  have  to  recast  our 
standards  ; if  it  stood  still  could  we  measure  time  at 
all } The  world  has  come  to  look  upon  Time  as  an  old 
man  with  a scythe,  from  the  best  knowm  symbol  em- 
ployed ; Watts  preferred  to  represent  him  as  a young 
man  marching  boldly  forward  ; it  would  be  quite 
consistent  to  represent  him  as  a new'  born  child,  the 
conception  of  Time  being  determined  by  the  view  of 
Eternity.  Blake,  in  a playful  lyric,  sings  “ Why  was 
Cupid  a boy  ” : 

And  why  a boy  was  he  ? 

He  should  have  been  a girl 
For  aught  that  I can  see. 

Then  to  make  Cupid  a boy 
Was  surely  a woman’s  plan, 

For  a boy  never  learns  so  much 
I’ill  he  has  become  a man. 

63 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
A great  deal  might  be  said  for  a general  recasting  of  a 
symbolism  that  has  become  so  familiar  that  the  fresh- 
ness of  its  appeal  has  vanished.  At  any  rate,  those  who 
use  old  symbols  should  endeavour  to  breathe  convic- 
tion into  them,  so  that  they  are  no  longer  wooden 
puppets  and  stale  abstractions,  but  are  informed  with 
living  character,  with  as  much  spirit  as  their  first 
creators  put  into  them. 

It  is  a pity  that  so  few  traces  of  a national  mythology 
remain  in  Britain  in  the  popular  mind  ; all  that  re- 
mains to  it  being  such  few  scraps  as  Shakespeare  and 
Milton  have  preserved,  like  Robin  Goodfellow,  Queen 
Mab,  and  Lob-lie-by-the-fire.  Our  fairy  lore  seems  to 
be  mainly  Teutonic,  and  of  comparatively  late  intro- 
duction to  the  country.  In  Ireland  they  still  have  the 
Leprechaun,  which  is  firmly  believed  in  ; and  being 
so,  is  frequently  visible  to  the  eyes  of  faith.  But  the 
fairies  seem  to  have  flitted  away  from  England,  and  an 
alien  race  of  Gods  and  Goddesses  to  have  taken  their 
place.  The  merman  is  forsaken.  Even  Wordsworth 
seems  to  have  felt  something  of  this,  and  might  be 
sighing  for  the  earlier  gods  of  England,  though  they  are 
foreigners  whom  he  names  : 

“ Great  God  I’d  rather  be 
A Pagan  suckled  in  a creed  outworn 
So  might  I,  standing  on  this  pleasant  lea 
Have  glimpses  that  would  make  me  less  forlorn ; 
Have  sight  of  Proteus  rising  from  the  sea  ; 

Or  hear  old  Triton  blow  his  wreathed  horn.” 

Blake  invented  a huge  mythological  system  of  his  own 
for  England,  both  written  and  drawn,  but  the  English 

64 


SYMBOLISM 

genius  is  perhaps  too  matter  of  fact  and  unimaginative 
to  use  imagery  as  a means  of  national  expression, 
having  imported  its  stock  ready-made  from^Palestine 
and  the  nearer  East  and  South  ; but  these  have  hardly 


No.  25.  Blake.  Jerusalem.  Drawn  on  metal  and  etched  to  print  as  type, 
by  Blake’s  “revealed  ’’  method. 


got  into  the  bones  and  blood  of  the  people  themselves, 
being  rather  a cult  of  the  Church  and  the  Universities  ; 
Adam  and  Eve  have  become  acclimatized  as  a public- 
house  sign,  but  the  “ Rising  Sun  ” is  a more  general 
and  more  Pagan  one.  The  “ Apollo  ” tavern  has  dis- 
appeared, and  Britannia,  John  Bull  and  Mrs.  Grundy 
are  almost  all  that  we  have  of  popular  imagery,  though 
St.  George,  now  that  the  gold  coinage  is  gone,  is  some- 
times seen  as  a C3  saint  on  the  popular  “ Bradburys.” 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

The  Scots  personify  their  rivers  and  make  them  talk 
grimly  : 

“ Tweed  says  to  Till  wha’  gars  ye  rin  sae  sla’  ? 

Till  says  to  Tweed,  ‘ Where  ye  droon  ae  mon 
I droon  twa’.” 

or  something  like  that.  Milton  has  Sabrina  ; but  his 
Severn  flows  through  Italy  rather  than  England,  and 
this  personification  of  trees,  rivers,  mountains  and  lakes 
belongs  generally  to  a cultivated  and  artificial  poetic 
convention  and  fancy  without  conviction,  and  we  have 
it  at  last  apologetically  introduced  as  in  Tennyson’s 
Brook,  w'hich  babbles  by  machinery — not  a product 
of  the  countryside  so  much  as  of  the  University. 


66 


CHAPTER  X 


CARTOONS 

The  work  of  the  cartoonist  involves  many  con- 
siderations from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  As 
it  provides  a ready  vehicle  for  ridicule,  and  as 
ridicule  is  perhaps  the  greatest  destructive  power  in  the 
world,  the  artist  entrusted  with  the  use  of  such  a weapon 
should  have  a strong  sense  of  responsibility  if  he  hopes 
to  carry  any  weight.  In  England  there  is  a code  of 
manners  imposed  which  has  reduced  this  power  almost 
to  that  of  a wasp  without  a sting,  so  that  it  is  hardly 
now  by  one  savage  onslaught  that  the  foe  is  driven  off, 
but  rather  by  a general  buzz  of  long  continued  dis- 
paragement. 

Though  the  cartoonist  has  in  his  hands  the  weapon 
of  ridicule,  his  art  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  that  of 
the  caricaturist  pure  and  simple,  as  is  so  frequently 
done  ; caricature  is  but  part  of  his  equipment  to  be 
used  if  need  be  ; the  greater  the  cartoonist  the  less 
necessary  it  may  be  to  him,  but  the  need  for  emphasis 
and  clarity  being  so  great,  most  cartoonists  use  it  at 
least  occasionally.  The  power  of  the  cartoon  lies  in  its 
rapid  and  graphic  summary  of  a situation,  appealing 
to  the  sympathies  or  confirming  the  prejudices  of  the 
spectator,  or  as  a means  of  more  or  less  diagramatically 
simplifying  and  explaining  it  at  a glance.  At  its  lowest 
this  calls  for  considerable  skill,  and,  at  its  highest,  for 
all  the  powers  the  artist  has  at  command.  All  his 

67 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
resources  of  conception,  symbolism,  dramatic  ability, 
realism,  knowledge  not  only  of  his  art,  but  of  its  power 
to  excite  the  aesthetic  and  other  emotions,  may  be 
called  into  play  ; and  most  frequently,  if  he  is  to  have 
any  effect  on  staying  or  speeding  the  general  current 
of  opinion,  all  these  must  be  available  at  a moment’s 
notice. 

In  a cartoon  the  appeal  should  be  instant  to  the  eye, 
and  nothing  introduced  that  may  overlay  its  signifi- 
cance. It  should  be  reduced  to  the  simplest  and  most 
forcible  terms,  like  a “ poster  ” and  be  as  readable  as 
a title  page,  and  the  mind  left  undisturbed  by  the  least 
irrelevance  to  the  main  idea.  Line  is  therefore  the  best 
medium  to  use,  without  attempt  to  convey  atmospheric 
effect  or  a sense  of  realism.  Atmosphere  and  any  general- 
ity of  statement  will  be  found  to  pad  and  mufile  the 
impact  of  the  idea  to  be  conveyed.  Since  vividness  and 
clarity  are  the  first  essentials  only  a misguided  person 
will  use  a full-tone  wash  drawing  for  such  a purpose. 

If  Ridicule  had  had  freer  play  many  an  absurd  bubble 
might  have  been  pricked  without  bloodshed  ; and  if 
Art  is  to  be  informed  with  a purpose  outside  itself  the 
artist  may  look  for  no  higher  employment  than  may 
be  found  in  the  art  of  the  cartoonist.  This,  though 
sometimes  ignorantly  despised,  may  at  its  best  bear  a 
like  relation  to  pure  pictorial  art  that  the  finest  oratory 
bears  to  literature,  and  hold  as  high  a rank. 

Caricature 

In  strict  caricature,  while  an  excess  of  objectivity 
might  be  expected,  it  will  not  always  be  found — wit- 
ness the  work  of  Ospovat  and  Max  Beerbohm — where 

68 


No.  26.  Blake.  Jerusalem.  Characteristic  expression  of  joyful  and 
rushing  movement. 


69 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
objectivity  is  almost  absent — it  has  been  distilled  till 
only  the  essential  spirit  remains.  We  may  say  that  the 
caricaturist  is  subjective  in  exact  proportion  to  his 
departure  from  exactitude  of  presentation  of  the  literal, 
that  is,  the  objective  fact.  While  the  emphasis  is  laid 
on  the  object,  the  choice  of  stress  and  the  extent  of  it 
is  so  personal  to  the  artist,  and  is  so  large  a part  of  his 
art  as  to  remove  him  at  times  almost  from  the  ranks  of 
the  objective  into  the  subjective,  even  though  the 
intention  of  the  stress  be  to  emphasize  the  object.  By 
losing  himself  the  caricaturist  is  discovered. 

Caricature  consists,  on  the  negative  side,  in  the 
elimination  of  that  part  of  the  character  of  the  object 
that  it  holds  most  in  common  with  others — that  is,  the 
partial  or  entire  elimination  of  the  average.  On  the 
positive  or  constructive  side  it  actively  insists  in  vary- 
ing degrees  of  emphasis  on  that  which  appears  to  the 
artist  to  be  most  individual.  It  differs  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  photographer’s  amusing  but  futile  effort  to 
arrive  by  means  of  the  composite  photograph  at  the 
common  factor. 

The  summary  definition  we  could  most  readily 
apply  to  caricature  is  “ emphasis,”  but  art  itself  has 
been  so  summarized,  so  that  we  are  left  with  caricature 
still  to  define.  How  then  do  we  distinguish  caricature 
from  other  forms  of  art  unless  we  may  be  allowed  the 
euphuism  that  it  is  “ emphatic  emphasis  ” — approach- 
ing emphasis  to  the  «th  power — like  the  loading  of  a 
girder  only  short  of  the  breaking  strain,  or  stretching 
an  elastic  to  its  snapping  point.  The  further  art  removes 
itself  from  the  norm  the  more  fully  it  becomes  cari- 
cature, and,  to  adopt  the  current  slang,  as,  considering 

70 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
the  subject,  seems  permissible — the  Art  of  Absolute 
Caricature  is  “ the  limit.” 

A door  is  either  open  or  shut — yet,  obvious  as  the 
fact  is,  many  people  do  not  seem  to  realize  that,  while 
there  is  only  one  degree  of  being  shut,  there  are  many 
degrees  of  being  open.  So  the  door  of  art  may  be  open 
so  little  that  it  may  be  called  ajar — to  allow  the  thin 
ghost  of  something  that  is  hardly  distinguishable 
from  a photograph  to  squeeze  through — or  so  wide- 
flung  that  its  possible  exclusiveness  may  be  hardly 
realized — to  admit  the  portly  figure  of  Daumier’s  “ fat 
friend.” 

In  England,  in  spite  of  the  great  reputation  of  Gilray 
and  Rowlandson,  the  art  of  strict  caricature  can  hardly 
be  said  to  have  flourished.  Gilray  was  a coarse  and 
clumsy  draughtsman  (“  coarse  ” referring  here  to 
style  of  drawing,  apart  from  what  is  generally  implied 
in  “ coarse-minded.”).  Vanity  Fair  is  perhaps  the 
measure  of  what  is  commonly  considered  caricature 
in  England  ; and  in  its  earlier  days  there  were  attempts 
at  something  like  a critical  portraiture,  but  for  the  most 
part  they  were  somewhat  stodgy,  degenerating  too 
frequently  into  the  large  head  on  the  little  body,  the 
portrait  itself  being  more  or  less  photographically 
accurate,  drawn  without  the  fire  or  intensity  of  interest 
requisite  to  enliven  the  art,  or  even  the  spark  of  mischief 
or  malice  that  at  least  removes  it  from  dulness. 

I can  recall  no  fierce  and  fine  draughtsman  who  has 
devoted  himself  to  the  art  in  England  of  the  calibre  of 
Leandre  in  France,  but  it  is  true  that  it  is  rare  in  the 
history  of  art  (even  so-called  “ serious  ” art — all  art 
is  serious)  to  find  a finer  stylist  than  he. 

72 


CARTOONS 

The  Yorick  Club  used  to  be  rich  in  a collection  of 
pastel  caricatures  of  its  members  by  S.  H.  Sime,  but 
these  have  never,  so  far  as  I know,  been  published,  and 
only  members  and  guests  of  the  Club  are  fortunate 
enough  to  know  them. 


No.  28.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


Ospovat  had  the  keen  eye  for  character,  the  satiric 
humour,  and  the  selective  sense  of  the  born  caricaturist 
with  the  ability  to  express  it  in  a swift  and  witty  crafts- 
manship that  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  artist’s  thought. 
It  is  a pity  that  his  career  was  so  short,  and  that  the 
knowledge  of  his  work  in  this  direction  is  so  restricted. 

On  the  Christmas  crackers  it  used  to  be  the  custom 
to  have  grotesque  faces  modelled  in  soft  indiarubber 
that,  as  children,  we  called  Zanys.  These  could  be 
squeezed  together  or  elongated  in  the  most  fantastic 
manner  so  that  a fat,  round  face,  already  grotesque, 
could  be  pulled  into  a long  thin  one,  or  a long  thin  one 

73 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
compressed  to  fatness,  yet  the  essential  character  re- 
mained the  same.  The  caricaturist  has  this  power  over 
his  subject  in  an  even  more  complex  manner,  for  he 
can  enlarge,  reduce,  or  suppress  at  will  any  part  as 
seems  good  to  him,  thereby  not  only  maintaining  but 
emphasizing  the  special  characteristics  of  the  individual. 


No.  29.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


It  is  possible  to  imagine  a drawing  of  Marie  Lloyd  by 
Leandre  that  should  leave  out  her  eyes  and  mouth,  to 
set  beside  the  caricature  by  Ospovat  that  leaves  out  her 
nose,  relying  upon  the  exaggerated  portraiture  of  a pair 
of  teeth,  that  should  yet  convey  an  equally  good  idea 
of  the  same  lady,  and  have  in  some  indefinable  way  a 
resemblance  to  Ospovat’s  version,  without  reference 
to  the  source  of  the  common  inspiration.  Yet  distortion, 
amusing  as  its  effects  may  be,  is  not  to  be  mistaken  for 
the  aim  of  the  caricaturist — as  soon  as  distortion  ceases 
to  yield  emphasis  to  the  individuality  it  has  passed  the 
mark,  and  where  there  has  been  an  excess  of  effort  the 
whole  force  may  be  wasted,  and  the  object  defeated — 
as  in  billiards,  where  a well-aimed  shot  rebounds  from 
the  pocket. 


74 


CARTOONS 

While  it  may  deal  mainly  with  externals,  it  is  yet 
capable  of  close  spiritual  analysis.  It  should  therefore 
be  sincere,  and  not  a mere  trick  of  enlargement  of  noses  ; 
a crude  idea  of  caricature  which  leads  back  towards 
the  “ ugly  valentine  ” or  “ skit,”  happily  extinct  ; or 
forwards  towards  new  but  similar  vulgarities. 

In  the  search  for  characteristics  the  subject  is  isolated 
from  its  surroundings  and  stripped  bare  of  all  wrap- 
pings. “ In  the  dark  all  cats  are  grey  ” is  a proverb — 
caricature  turns  a searchlight  on  them,  and  only  grey 
cats  are  grey  to  it.  In  such  a light  isolation  alone  may 
be  sufficiently  emphatic — for  caricature  does  not  recog- 
nize a crowd,  but  deals  only  in  individuals — seeing  not 
the  similarities  but  the  unlikenesses  in  the  most  ordinary 
mortals,  enlarging  ruthlessly  upon  the  least  departure 
from  the  norm. 


75 


CHAPTER  XI 


STUDY  OF  STYLE 

IT  is  advisable  that  the  student  should  be  familiar  not 
only  with  the  work  that  is  being  contemporaneously 
produced,  so  as  to  keep  abreast  of  current  taste,  but 
should  have  a wide  knowledge  of  the  outstanding 
work  of  the  past,  so  that  tradition  will  not  be  over- 
thrown by  the  ignorance  of  it,  nor  by  craze  of  fashion 
or  prejudice,  but  only  by  improvements  on  it.  It  is 
always  good  for  a young  student  to  study  the  sources 
and  progress  of  the  evolution  of  a style  rather  than  to 
accept  it  as  having  sprung  up  out  of  the  earth  full 
grown.  He  will  then  be  less  likely  to  be  run  away  with 
or  blown  over  by  the  “ latest  thing,”  but  rather  to  be 
in  advance  of  it,  the  newest  generally  consisting  in  a 
harking  back  to  something  that  had  passed  out  of 
common  knowledge.  There  is  no  quotation  more  gener- 
ally misapplied  than  that  favourite,  “ One  touch  of 
Nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin,”  which  in  England 
is  given  a curiously  characteristic  twist  of  sentimen- 
tality. The  statement  is  not  a complete  and  general 
one,  but  particular — “ One  touch  of  Nature  makes  the 
whole  world  kin.  That  all  with  one  consent  praise  new 
born  gawds.  Though  they  are  made  and  moulded  of 
things  past.  And  give  to  dust  that  is  a little  gilt.  More 
laud  than  gilt  o’er  dusted.  The  present  eye  praises 
the  present  object  ” ; and  Shakespeare  puts  it  into  the 
mouth  of  the  wise  Ulysses.  This  vulgarity  can  only  be 

76 


STUDY  OF  STYLE 

avoided  by  knowledge,  and  without  this  knowledge  a 
catchpenny  and  meretricious  style  may  be  adopted 
and  found  difficult  to  get  out  of,  like  a Cockney  and 
H-less  accent.  It  may  not  be  generally  realized  that  it 
is  possible  to  draw  in  a Cockney  and  H-less  manner. 
Unfortunately  it  is  all  too  common. 

Style  dictated  hy  the  means  employed 

The  formation  of  style  is  of  the  first  importance. 
Style  will  be  largely  the  outcome  of  the  instrument 
employed  ; and  a good  style  will  almost  inevitably  be 
dictated  by  the  instrument  itself  in  so  far  as  appro- 
priateness is  concerned  if  the  instrument  is  sympa- 
thetically handled.  By  this  is  meant  a proper  under- 
standing of  its  limitations,  which  will  lead  to  a proper 
respect  for  them  and  so  prevent  the  artist  from  en- 
deavouring to  force  past  the  natural  barriers  these 
limitations  impose.  For  instance,  it  is  easy  to  observe 
in  the  work  of  Albert  Diirer  upon  wood  how  he  accepted 
the  natural  stroke  of  the  quill  pen  as  the  basis  of  his 
style  ; not  sharpening  it  too  finely,  as  this  would  have 
called  for  constant  pressure  to  obtain  the  desired 
thickness,  and  calling  for  frequent  re-cutting — using 
it  sideways  for  fine  lines  and  the  full  breadth  of  the  tip 
for  broad  ones,  with  all  the  varying  breadths  in  be- 
tween these  extremes  to  be  obtained  on  a curve  without 
changing  the  inclination  of  the  pen  to  the  paper.  This 
natural  use  of  the  pen,  without  cross  hatching,  being 
also  the  simplest  for  the  wood-cutter  to  follow  with  the 
knife,  yielded  the  best  results  the  method  was  capable 
of,  and  was  never  improved  upon  for  line  drawing 
upon  wood  planks  for  the  wood-cutter. 

77 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
Ironic  result  of  Bewick's  method 

Line  drawing  on  wood  for  the  wood  engraver  did 
not  call  for  the  same  stringency  of  style.  It  was  un- 
necessary to  economise  line  with  the  same  care  and 
wise  parsimony.  Deservedly  much  as  Bewick  has  been 
praised  for  his  originality  in  exploiting  the  “ white 


No.  30.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


line  ” theory  of  engraving  on  wood,  it  is  curious  how 
barren  its  results  have  been  until  recently  in  the  pro- 
duction of  fine  works  in  other  hands  than  his  own  and 
those  of  his  immediate  followers.  What  had  most  effect 
on  serious  English  art  was  not  the  white  line  theory, 
but  the  change  from  the  plank  block  of  soft  wood  to 
the  end  grain  of  hard  box,  and  the  use  of  the  burin  in 
place  of  the  knife,  which  enabled  the  engraver  to  follow 
with  much  greater  accuracy  the  finest  line  drawn  by 

78 


STUDY  OF  STYLE 

the  artist  upon  the  wood,  and  to  imitate  with  the  utmost 
minuteness  the  most  intricate  cross  hatching  he  might 
care  to  employ,  a minuteness  quite  outside  the  possi- 
bilities of  the  wood-cutter  on  the  plank,  with  his  knife. 

It  is  true  that  a certain  number  of  engravers  did 
carry  on  the  Bewick  tradition  and  that  artists  worked 


No.  31.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


with  a view  to  translation  by  these  methods.  There  is 
a curious  little  book,  undated  but  published  in  1854 
or  earlier — it  is  called  Familiar  Fables,  by  Miss  Corner  ; 
the  illustrations  are  by  Alfred  Crowquill  and  James 
Northcote,  Esqs.  There  are  fifty  carefully  composed 
little  elliptical  drawings,  surrounded  by  sloppy  decor- 
ation in  the  worst  taste  of  the  period.  The  pictorial 
part  of  the  design  is  by  Northcote,  I suppose,  and  the 
sloppiness  is  supplied  by  Crowquill  ; but  the  chief 
interest  lies  in  the  masculine  vigour  of  the  engraving. 
It  is  difficult  to  know  exactly  what  method  of  collabor- 
ation existed  between  Northcote  and  the  engraver,  or 
rather  engravers.  How  the  drawings  were  made  upon 
the  wood  there  is  little  indication.  Most  probably  a 
mixture  of  pencil  and  wash,  with  line  predominant  ; 
but  there  is  hardly  more  than  one  example  of  direct 

79 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
imitation  of  cross  hatching  ; and  this  is  very  simple. 
There  are  several  signatures  or  monograms  of  en- 
gravers— one  R.  B.  (or  B.  R.),  I.  Dodd,  I.  Jackson 
C.  Nesbit,  Bonner,  T.  Mosses,  Pears  (or  Sears  ?). 
There  is  a general  similarity  of  treatment  by  all  of  these, 
and  little  to  choose  between  them.  Positive  black  and 
white  are  judiciously  used,  and  form  throughout  is  the 
basis  of  the  direction  of  the  line.  A few  conventional 
“ textures  ” or  “ touches  ” are  employed  for  the  repre- 
sentation of  rocks,  foregrounds,  and  distant  foliage, 
but  the  skies  are  not  ruled  ; and  unpretentious  as  the 
engravings  are,  have  considerable  dignity  and  large- 
ness, being  handsome  both  in  the  design  and  the  en- 
graving. From  the  number  of  the  engravers  employed 
and  from  the  uniformity  of  their  methods,  it  is  probable 
that  they  worked  for  a single  employer  of  strong  Views, 
or  that  they  had  been  apprentices  in  the  school  of 
Bewick,  and  that  Northcote  himself  took  pains  in 
supervising  the  interpretation  of  his  drawings. 

It  is  a pity  that,  since  there  was  so  strong  a school  of 
engravers  in  existence,  presumably  as  late  as  1854, 
carrying  on  the  vigorous  tradition  of  Bewick,  that  these 
traditions  were  allowed  to  die  out,  even  while  wood 
engraving  was  a prosperous  undertaking  ; for  long 
before  it  was  killed  by  mechanical  methods  of  repro- 
duction it  had  become  an  almost  entirely  mechanical 
and  inartistic  “ job  ” for  which  the  engraver  himself 
had  lost  respect,  and  was  responsible  to  a large  extent 
for  the  degradation  of  black  and  white  even  after  its 
decay.  It  was  in  the  years  immediately  following  that 
there  sprang  up  a set  of  artists  who,  in  consequence 
of  that  other  development  in  the  direction  of  facsimile,  - 

80 


STUDY  OF  STYLE 

made  a period,  fully  covered  by  fifteen  years,  a glor- 
ious one  in  the  annals  of  British  Art. 


Contemporary  work  was  being  done  by  Gavarni  in 
“ Le  Diable  a Paris,”  dated  1853.  The  “Contes  Dro- 
latiques,”  which  had  been  first  published  in  1831, 


No.  32.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 

appeared  with  Dore’s  illustrations  in  1855  ; and  a mass 
of  work  in  a mixed  manner,  part  facsimile,  part  trans- 
lation of  the  artist’s  work,  who  took  his  task  in  the  most 
light-hearted  manner  in  the  world,  Gavarni ’s  draw- 
ings probably  suffering  severely  enough  to  induce  him 
to  take  to  lithography  with  relief,  since  all,  or  nearly 
all,  his  delicacy  of  handling  is  lost  by  the  engraver, 
in  whose  hands  he  is  made  to  appear  hardly  better 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
than  a second-rate  hack,  though  the  drawings,  which 
appear  to  have  been  made  with  pencil  sometimes 
touched  with  wash,  doubtless  shared,  if  they  did  not 
surpass,  the  delicacy  of  his  lithographs.  Dore  did  not 
lose  so  much,  as  his  drawings  appear  to  have  been  made 
largely  in  pen  ; a less  deceptive  medium  for  the  artist 


No.  33.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


to  work  in,  as  it  gives  so  much  more  nearly  the  effect 
of  a print,  for  it  depends  entirely  on  thickness  or  thin- 
ness of  line  for  its  effect,  while  the  pencil  will  frequently 
beguile  the  artist  into  endeavouring  to  obtain  silvery 
effects  of  grey  beyond  the  scope  of  the  engraver  and 
the  press  to  render,  no  matter  how  much  trouble  or 
skill  may  be  employed.  Nevertheless  it  was  in  pencil 
that  some  of  the  finest  artists  worked  for  the  engravers 
in  our  best  period,  but  they  stuck  to  the  point  of  the 
pencil  so  that  at  every  stroke  a clean  line  was  made, 
and  did  not  use  it  as  a smudging  instrument.  Where 
this  was  done,  no  matter  how  delicate  and  silvery  the 
charm  of  its  effect  upon  the  wood,  the  “ white  line  ” 

82 


STUDY  OF  STYLE 

engraver,  having  become  more  or  less  of  a hack,  repre- 
sented it,  if  he  had  the  chance,  by  means  of  a mechan- 
ical ruler,  not  even  troubling  to  cut  it  by  hand.  The 
little  landscape  views  seen  in  the  magazines  of  the  time, 
drawn  with  no  matter  what  feminine  charm,  were 
killed  dead  as  a door-nail  by  the  engraver — all  look 
alike,  so  that  it  is  hard  to  imagine  what  interest  they 
can  have  had  even  for  contemporaries.  For  us  it  has 
evaporated,  and  the  engraver  put  in  nothing  of  his 
own  to  replace  it. 

Menzel  and  Facsimile  Engraving 

By  an  irony  of  fate,  Bewick  had  this  curious  effect 
on  British  Art  in  the  main,  not  by  engendering  the  use 
of  the  white  line,  and  so  giving  the  engraver  a language 
of  his  own  and  a chance  of  exercising  his  wit  as  an 
artist  and  a craftsman  in  interpretation,  but  by  train- 
ing him  in  the  skilful  use  of  the  burin,  made  it  possible 
for  the  artist,  while  exercising  greater  freedom  himself 
upon  the  wood,  to  demand  a closer  slavery  to  the 
black  line  from  the  engraver  than  from  the  wood- 
cutter. This  is  to  be  seen  in  Menzel’s  “ Frederick  the 
Great,”  where  the  transition  is  plainly  shown  from  a 
certain  independence  of  attitude  upon  the  part  of  the 
engravers,  who  were  inclined  to  give  a summary  para- 
phrase rather  than  the  verbatim  translation  necessary 
to  the  work.  Menzel  appears  to  have  fallen  out  with 
the  system,  and  to  have  insisted  upon  a microscopic 
closeness  of  imitation.  A sulky  change  ensues  towards 
facsimile  work,  till  then  never  equalled,  and  since 
never  surpassed,  upon  the  wood  block,  so  close,  indeed, 
that  the  camera  itself  has  hardly  achieved  more.  The 

83 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
varying  thickness  of  the  finest  and  most  flexible  pen 
stroke  is  eventually  achieved  by  the  engraver,  so  that 
it  is  difficult  to  realize  that  it  has  been  necessary  for 
the  engraver  to  approach  it  from  two  sides  ; that  the 
black  printed  line  is  the  result  on  his  part,  not  of 
spontaneous  ease,  but  of  laborious  care,  and  that  in 
exact  proportion  to  the  apparent  irresponsibility, 
tentativeness  and  fineness  of  the  line,  has  the  engravers* 
task  been  the  heavier.  Menzel  had  no  mercy  on  them: 
he  made  no  concessions  to  the  natural  genius  of  the 
wood  by  adapting  his  drawing  to  what  it  or  the  en- 
gravers could  most  naturally  yield  him.  His  egoism 
was  magnificent  in  this  respect.  They  couldn’t  interpret 
his  work  ; well  then,  that  was  their  look  out — they 
must  copy  it,  and  copy  it  they  did.  He  never  seems  to 
have  tried  to  adapt  his  style  to  the  wood,  but  demanded 
from  it  the  fineness  of  an  etching,  and  got  it  in  spite 
of  everything.  He  was,  in  fact,  from  beginning  to  end 
a magnificent  Philistine,  more  really  of  a scientist  than 
an  artist,  interested  more  in  facts  and  things  than  in 
thoughts  or  ideas.  Yet  it  is  largely  to  his  dominance 
over  the  engravers,  and  the  effect  this  produced  gener- 
ally upon  them,  that  facsimile  engraving  came  to  the 
pitch  it  did,  and  so  rendered  the  work  of  our  men  of 
the  sixties  safe  from  ruin  by  the  inefficient  engraver. 


84 


CHAPTER  XII 


CONSISTENCY  WITH  ORIGINAL  IMPULSE 
ESSENTIAL  IN  ART 

Doubt  and  hesitancy  frequently  crop  up  during 
the  progress  of  a work.  The  more  mind  a man 
or  woman  has  the  more  inclined  they  are  to 
change  it  from  time  to  time,  and  to  take  sides  against 
their  own  point  of  view,  as  a model  will  rest  on  one 
foot  after  another,  alternately.  It  is  a salutary  process, 
but  should  not  be  indulged  in  while  a work  of  art  is  in 
progress.  Art  is  a statement  not  of  doubt  or  hesitancy, 
but  of  passion  and  conviction.  It  is  dogmatic  or  nothing 
— “ So  I saw  it — so  I felt — so  I thought,  at  the  moment 
when  the  impulse  was  upon  me  to  do  this.”  The  artist 
should,  therefore,  like  the  runner,  have  some  notion  of 
the  distance  he  will  have  to  run  before  the  race  is  over, 
and  what  sort  of  strain  will  be  placed  upon  his  powers. 
An  elaborate  composition  that  takes  time  to  carry 
through  should  be  carefully  prepared  for,  and  nothing 
left  to  chance,  otherwise  in  the  first  heat  of  the  impulse 
the  work  may  be  tackled  with  a fire  and  energy  that 
lands  the  artist  into  difficulties  or  inconsistencies  some- 
times so  great  that  nothing  but  a fresh  start  will  save 
the  idea.  Doubts  may  assail  him  as  to  whether  the 
method  or  style  adopted  is  most  suitable  to  the  subject, 
and  if  it  is  gone  on  with  under  a spell  of  mistaken  in- 
dustry, confusion  of  style  may  result  as  though  the 
work  were  that  of  two  or  more  separate  minds.  A 
notable  instance  of  this  was  to  be  seen  in  Millais’ 

85 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
picture  of  “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter,”  an  exquisite 
example  of  his  Pre-Raphaelite  manner.  In  late  years  he 
re-painted  for  some  reason,  not  the  whole  picture,  but 
the  girl  only,  without  being  critic  enough  to  see  until 
too  late  that  the  method  of  expression  he  had  developed 
in  the  meantime,  if  not  even  his  habit  of  mind  and 
vision,  had  changed.  Happily  the  bulk  of  the  picture 
was  left  untouched,  but  its  unity  was  destroyed,  as  it 
would  doubtless  have  been  even  if  the  later  work  had 
not  been  as  inferior  as  it  is. 

This  much  as  to  unity  of  impulse ; as  to  technical 
unities,  every  artist  might  well  write  up  on  his  easel, 
“ One  picture,  one  sun  ; One  picture,  one  horizon.” 
As  to  the  first,  it  is  only  concerned  with  the  main- 
tenance of  unity  of  lighting,  and  is  simply  a warning 
not  to  forget  the  main  source  of  light,  as  though  each 
member  of  a group  of  people  carried  their  independent 
illuminant  about  with  them  and  threw  their  own 
shadows  at  their  own  sweet  wdll. 

As  for  the  second  rule  as  to  “ One  horizon,”  a very 
well-known  artist,  less  than  a week  before  sending-in 
day  for  the  Academy,  asked  me  round  “ just  to  criti- 
cize his  perspective  for  him.”  He  had  a picture  of  some 
classic  subject,  a mountainous  landscape  with  probably 
fifty  nude  figures  standing  and  lying  about  upon  the 
mountain  side.  These  figures  were  all  beautifully 
studied  and  painted  from  life,  but  there  was  something 
the  matter  with  the  perspective  of  the  mountain,  he 
thought,  but  he  couldn’t  make  out  what.  Individually 
there  was  nothing  to  find  fault  with,  either  with  the 
figures  or  the  mountain  ; but  the  picture  was  a 
collection  of  errors.  All  the  figures  had  been  studied 

86 


CONSISTENCY  WITH  ORIGINAL  IMPULSE 
from  models  posed  upon  the  throne  in  the  studio  from 
the  same  point  of  view,  and  placed  upon  the  mountain 
side  above,  on,  or  below  the  horizon,  as  though  such  a 
thing  as  perspective  did  not  exist  for  human  beings. 
He  realised  that  figures  looked  smaller  in  the  distance, 
but  not  the  equally  simple  fact  that  if  an  upright  figure 


No.  34.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


is  below  you,  you  can  see  the  top  of  the  head,  and  if 
above  you,  you  can  see  the  soles  of  the  feet. 

Nothing  could  save  the  picture.  It  was  a collection 
of  studies  on  a single  canvas,  but  not  a unit  ; and  no 
power  on  earth  could  make  it  one. 

An  artist  of  complex  and  tremblingly  balanced 
character,  who  looks  both  inward  upon  himself  and 
outwardly  upon  the  world,  will  have  an  interesting  but 
troubled  life  in  his  effort  to  find  due  expression  for 
his  alternating  moods.  The  pride  of  the  craftsman  is 
hardly  to  be  his,  since  one  half  of  him  almost  of  neces- 
sity will  be  nagging  like  a wife  at  the  other.  In  this 
quarrelsome  frame  of  mind  he  may  be  puzzled  to  such 
a degree  as  to  endeavour  to  satisfy  each  party 

87 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
alternately  by  throwing  sops  of  treatment  to  each  ; so 
that  a drawing  is  treated  in  one  manner  in  one  place  and 
differently  in  another,  to  such  an  extent  sometimes  as 
to  resemble  a book  of  specimens  or  an  old  “ sample  of 
penmanship.”  Both  or  all  styles  may  be  admirable  in 
themselves,  but  the  essential  unity  of  style  or  vision  is 
lost,  and  we  have  a polyglot  result.  An  example  of  this 
occurs  in  an  admirable  drawing  by  M.  J.  Lawless, 
“ John  of  Padua  ” ; equal  skill  is  shown  in  every  part 
of  the  drawing,  but  the  discrepancy  between  the  fore- 
ground figures  and  the  background  is  so  marked  as  to 
make  one  suspect,  not  so  much  a change  of  mood  on 
the  part  of  Lawless  himself,  as  the  employment  of  quite 
another  hand.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  find  this 
discrepancy  of  treatment  as  the  result  of  a mistaken 
conscientiousness.  In  this  case  we  feel  that  the  eye  has 
used  two  different  focuses.  The  effect  is  worse  when 
the  defect  is  really  less  obvious,  and  the  eye  has  focussed 
separately  on  all  the  objects  in  a composition.  There  is 
then  no  predominance  and  no  subordination  of  parts, 
and  we  get  a jumbled  result  that  the  eye  can  disen- 
tangle only  with  difficulty  and  little  satisfaction.  It  is 
one  of  the  remarkable  triumphs  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
brotherhood  and  their  following  that  they  did  in  general 
achieve  unity  in  spite  of  the  myriad  detail  introduced 
in  full  light  of  day  without  the  aid  of  a gloomy  chiaro- 
scuro. As  example  take  Frederick  Sandys’  “ Morgan 
le  Fay,”  where  an  effect  of  rich  warm  colour  is  arrived 
at,  but  only  by  a relentless  and  calculated  pursuit,  and 
careful  proportioning  of  means  to  a foreseen  end  which 
no  dashing  adventurer  could  arrive  at.  This  cold,  grave 
passion  is  a peculiar  mark  of  Sandys. 

88 


No.  35.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


89 


CHAPTER  XIII 


FLEXIBILITY  OF  THE  PEN  LINE 

The  pen  consisting  of  a pliable  pair  of  points 
has  this  in  common  with  the  brush  ; that  it  is 
capable  of  a line  that  can  be  thick  or  thin  at 
will,  with  all  degrees  between  its  finest  and  its  broadest 
capacity.  This  gives  the  pen  draughtsman  his  one  small 
advantage  over  the  etcher,  since  the  etcher’s  line  is  not 
variable  in  like  manner,  having  to  be  of  the  same  thick- 
ness throughout  its  length. 

Strict  line  drawing  with  the  pen  being  even  more 
severely  restricted  in  its  means  of  expression  than 
those  legitimately  employed  in  etching,  calls  for  an 
even  greater  selective  effort  upon  the  part  of  the  artist. 

In  this  connection  a common  misapprehension  may 
be  removed.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a “ pen  etch- 
ing.” The  term  “ etching  ” refers  generally  and  properly 
to  the  use  of  the  acid  employed  to  bite,  eat,  or  etch 
away  those  parts  of  the  metal  the  absence  of  which  is 
required  for  the  purpose  of  the  printer. 

Steel  nibs  a?id  quill  pens 

This  flexibility  of  the  pen-points  is  capable  of  being 
used  to  good  effect  in  rendering  the  line  very  supple  ; 
even  a hardly  perceptible  accentuation  or  diminution 
of  thickness  in  the  length  of  the  line  adds  to  its  nervous 
charm  if  judiciously  used,  but  anything  approaching 
the  writing  master’s  mechanical  thin  up  and  thick  down 

90 


FLEXIBILITY  OF  THE  PEN  LINE 
stroke,  which  made  sorry  our  youth  with  pot  hooks 
and  hangers,  should  be  avoided.  These  were  imitated 
from  the  work  of  the  scribes  who  had  used  their  broad 
cut  quill  or  reed  pens  in  a natural  way,  obtaining  differ- 
ent thicknesses  of  line  by  changing  the  angle  at  which 
the  pen  was  presented  to  the  paper  without  exerting 


No.  36.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


pressure,  but  with  the  introduction  of  fine-pointed 
steel  pens  the  style  survived,  although  the  pens  were 
not  adapted  to  carry  it  out  except  by  the  exercise  of 
pressure.  The  steel  nib  recovers  from  pressure  better 
than  the  quill,  so  that  it  was  tempting  to  use  it  in  this 
manner.  An  old-maidish  style  of  writing  once  common 
may  be  remembered  in  which  the  thick  down  stroke 
only  survived  in  the  degenerate  form  of  an  accent  made 
by  a sudden  little  peck  of  the  pen  in  the  middle  of  the 
stroke.  Such  a use  of  the  pen  in  drawing  brings  about 
an  excess  of  jumpy  accents  higgledy-piggledy  and  here 
and  there  which  distresses  the  eye  and  fritters  away 
the  large  calm  of  the  design  without  any  compensating 
advantage.  Yet  nothing  can  be  more  exciting  than  to 
use  the  pen  or  see  it  used  in  this  manner,  where  it  ex- 
presses character  and  is  otherwise  appropriate  to  the 
subject,  as  it  is  a quite  natural  and  proper  exploitation 
of  the  possibilities  of  the  instrument,  yielding  more 
the  quality  of  the  dry  point  where  the  burr  has  been 


91 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
taken  full  advantage  of  than  an  etched  line.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  maintain  unity  of  effect  and  strict  draughts- 
manship by  this  means  throughout  an  elaborate  com- 
position, since  it  is  necessarily  a nervously  explosive 


No.  37.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


method  of  expression,  and  unless  spontaneous  through- 
out, must  become  mechanical,  and  in  consequence  dull, 
except  in  those  jolly  but  isolated  patches  where  the 
explosion  takes  place. 

It  is  wise,  therefore,  to  reserve  this  technique  for 
such  drawings  as  can  be  carried  through  at  a sitting, 
since  a nervous  draughtsman  will  find  it  difficult  to 
“ recapture  the  first  fine  careless  rapture  ” that  seemed 

92 


FLEXIBILITY  OF  THE  PEN  LINE 
so  gloriously  easy  while  it  lasted,  and  the  phlegmatic 
had  perhaps  better  never  begin  it,  even  though  he  be 
tempted,  since  a skittish  dulness  is  the  mulish  product. 

Little  was  seen  of  this  characteristic  use  of  the  pen 
in  the  days  of  the  wood  engravers,  for  in  the  early  days 
quill  and  not  steel  pens  were  used,  and  in  the  ’sixties 
the  greater  bulk  of  the  work  was  drawn  on  the  block 
in  pencil.  In  the  work  of  Bewick  and  his  immediate 
followers  a similar  effect  to  that  of  the  pen  laboriously 
used  in  this  manner  is  obtained  by  the  natural  use  of 
the  burin,  which,  being  of  a V shape,  cuts  a line  of 
varying  thickness  according  to  the  depth  of  the  in- 
cision, a fact  upon  which  Bewick  and  his  followers 
largely  based  their  style.  It  was  not  till  photographic 
processes  replaced  the  wood  engraver  that  the  pen  was 
generally  turned  to  by  artists  as  giving  the  best  results 
for  direct  process,  and  its  possibilities  more  fully  ex- 
ploited than  they  had  been  in  drawing  for  the  wood 
engraver,  and  the  style  of  the  modern  pen  draughts- 
man is  more  usually  based  upon  the  steel  nib  and  its 
flexibility  under  pressure  than  upon  the  quill  or  reed 
used  without  pressure. 


93 


CHAPTER  XIV 


COMPOSITION  AND  THE  PRINCIPLE  OF 
GROUPS 

The  principles  underlying  the  harmonious  ar- 
rangement or  grouping  of  lines  are  to  be  derived 
from  nature.  It  is  only  necessary  to  observe  how 
two  or  more  people  brought  into  any  relation  by  a com- 
mon interest,  such  as  walking  together,  conversing,  read- 
ing from  the  same  hymn-book,  or  watching  a balloon  will 
immediately,  no  matter  what  their  individual  differences, 
form  a harmonious  group,  focussed  as  they  are  upon 
their  common  interest.  When  this  focus  is  withdrawn 
they  will  relapse  from  being  components  of  a group  ; 
they  become  scattered  and  individual  again,  irrelevancy 
of  line  takes  place,  and  the  unity  of  the  group  is  broken 
up.  It  is  not,  therefore,  rule  of  thumb,  but  a natural 
law  not  to  be  broken,  that  the  focus  of  a group  is  the 
essential  point  to  establish  and  the  relation  of  in- 
dividuals to  it,  for  from  this  point  harmony  will  radiate. 
If  figures  are  brought  into  a natural  relation  to  this 
they  will  fall  inevitably  into  a sympathetic  arrange- 
ment, which  is  harmony.  If  the  hub  of  a wheel  is  broken 
out  the  spokes  will  become  individuals  united  in  a 
common  bond  of  misfortune  and  to  that  extent  a group; 
but  not  the  compacted  parts  of  a whole  ; if  the  fellies, 
too,  are  broken,  the  spokes  change  : they  are  no  longer 
spokes,  but  unrelated  sticks  again. 

Antagonism  is  in  itself  a relation,  and  will  be 

94 


COMPOSITION  AND  PRINCIPLE  OF  GROUPS 
conditioned  by  the  rule  just  stated.  In  so  far  as  the 
direction  of  interest  is  common  to  antagonists,  to  that 
extent  they  will  form  parts  of  a group.  They  may  be 
united  in  hatred  in  such  a manner  that  the  line  may  be 
almost  indistinguishable  from  that  of  love.  It  will  be  the 
passionate  angularity  or  rigidity  of  the  line  rather  than 
in  the  main  contour  that  hatred  will  distinguish  itself 
from  the  more  suave  and  genial  curves  of  affection. 
But  antagonism  of  interest  is  immediately  seen  in 
antagonism  or  contradiction  of  line,  and  in  a general 
stiffening  of  curvature. 

Indifference  of  relation  will  arise  from  the  dispersal 
of  the  foci,  giving  each  individual  his  or  her  own  pre- 
occupation regardless  of  those  of  others.  No  matter 
how  tight  packed  a number  of  people  may  be,  they  are 
not  a crowd,  a group,  or  a unit  until  they  have  been 
welded  together  by  some  common  focus.  Mass  or 
multitude  alone  does  not  make  a crowd — they  may 
still  remain  individuals.  See  any  photograph  of  a foot- 
ball fifteen  each  intent  on  his  own  personality,  though 
all  in  exactly  the  same  pose  and  all  looking  alike.  Yet 
they  do  not  make  a crowd.  They  are  fifteen  individuals 
each  cut  off  from  his  neighbour.  On  this  point  there  is 
a saying  of  Degas  in  presence  of  a picture  of  a mul- 
titude of  people  without  cohesion  of  relationship,  which 
is  worth  quoting  : “I  see  fifty  people  but  no  crowd — 
one  makes  a crowd  with  five  and  not  with  fifty.” 

An  earnest  congregation  kneeling  in  silent  prayer  is 
not  strictly  a crowd  : it  is  a gathering  of  separate  per- 
sons in  more  or  less  the  same  attitude,  but  passionately 
individual  ; a moment  later,  intent  upon  the  preacher, 
they  have  become  a crowd  held  by  the  same  unit  of 

95 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


interest,  with  all  their  many  individualities  submerged 
into  one.  In  the  theatre  there  may  be  one  crowd  in  the 
stalls,  a second  in  the  pit,  and  a third  in  the  gallery — 


No.  38.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 

it  is  the  aim  of  an  actor  to  weld  the  entire  house  into  a 
unit. 

So  with  the  artist  : having  observed  the  action  of 
these  laws,  he  will  have  less  difficulty  in  achieving 

96 


COMPOSITION  AND  PRINCIPLE  OF  GROUPS 
unity  or  harmony  in  his  work,  and  a higgledy-piggledy 
dispersal  of  interest  will  only  appear  when  this  is 
essential  to  the  subject  and  under  the  artist’s  control. 

The  harmony  of  figures  in  a composition  will  make 
itself,  arising  naturally  from  the  situation,  and  will  not 
be  forced  upon  it.  Here  we  have  the  underlying  rule  of 
true  rhythm  and  balance  in  figure  composition,  and  a 
multitude  of  rules  of  thumb  for  their  attainment  be- 
come, in  the  light  of  this,  tinkering  and  superfluous. 

Composition  consists  in  the  arrangement  of  essentials 
in  harmonious  and  proportionate  relation,  so  as  to  form 
one  whole  from  the  component  parts. 

In  making  a figure  composition  a matter  of  the  first 
importance  is  that  the  pattern  or  silhouette  made  by 
the  figure  or  figures  shall  be  of  interest  in  themselves, 
and  well  proportioned  to  and  arranged  in  the  space  to 
be  filled.  No  matter  how  realistic  or  how  decorative 
the  treatment  to  be  adopted,  certain  principles  will 
equally  apply,  such  as  rhythm  of  line  or  of  interest, 
correct  relation,  balance,  and  subordination  of  parts. 
The  compositions  of  Degas,  so  founded  on  observation 
of  life,  and  so  startling  when  first  seen,  are  yet  entirely 
satisfactory  from  this  point  of  view.  The  first  essential 
for  an  artist  is  interest,  and  the  intensity  of  his  interest 
will  generally  determine  the  quality  of  the  interest  of 
his  work  for  others.  It  is  impossible  for  the  bored 
person  to  be  creatively  interesting.  A recital  of  un- 
selected and  unrelated  facts  in  a story  is  as  dull  as  a 
ditch,  unless  the  mind  of  the  reciter  has  in  some  way 
been  stirred  by  them.  Interest  will  then  communicate 
itself  through  the  recital  to  the  listener.  The  main  in- 
terest of  facts  is  not  in  themselves  alone,  but  in  their 


97 


H 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


relation  to  others.  That  a man  should  be  six  feet  high 
causes  no  excitement,  but  that  a man  should  be  six 
feet  high  in  a race  of  pigmies  would  be  a marvel,  not 


No.  39.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 


only  to  his  own  race  but  to  a race  of  giants.  A pig-tailed 
mandarin  walking  in  Canton  is  simply  one  of  a crowd  ; 
but  strolling  impassively  across  the  cricket  pitch  on 
one  of  our  village  greens  he  becomes  a dramatic  unit, 
though  he  is  unalterably  the  same.  Likeness  may  be 

98 


COMPOSITION  AND  PRINCIPLE  OF  GROUPS 

as  dramatic  as  contrast ; even  the  likeness  of  twins. 
One  of  the  most  dramatic  things  ever  observed  by  the 
writer  was  when,  on  a summer’s  night,  a man  approached 
from  an  opposite  direction  who,  while  his  figure  was 
visible  enough  against  the  reflections  of  the  pavement, 
had  all  the  appearance  of  headlessness  above  the  gleam 
of  his  collar,  until  under  the  lamp  as  he  passed  there 
was  the  glitter  of  eyes  and  the  flash  of  teeth,  his  face  at 
the  moment  of  passing  being  the  exact  tone  of  the 
night  background.  It  was  only  a nigger,  to  whom  cir- 
cumstances of  lighting  gave  all  the  uncanny  appearance 
of  a headless  man  walking  down  Regent  Street  among 
the  commonplace  crowd.  The  cause  of  the  drama  is 
in  each  of  these  cases  the  same — the  unexpected.  The 
relation  in  which  facts  are  placed  to  each  other  will  be 
at  least  half  their  interest,  so  that  their  degree  of  like- 
ness or  contrast,  their  quality  of  rarity  or  commonness, 
strangeness  or  familiarity,  is  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance. To  search  and  find  out  the  particular  from  the 
average,  and  the  individual  in  the  type  as  indicated  in 
Kipling’s  boast,  “ I found  nought  common  on  Thy 
Earth,”  is  part  of  the  Science  of  Art. 

Composition 

Having  decided  upon  the  elements  necessary  to  be 
introduced  into  a composition  ; for  instance,  a police- 
man, a cat.  Queen  Elizabeth,  a geranium,  Buckingham 
Palace,  the  moon  and  a bucket,  it  is  necessary  to  con- 
sider the  relation  between  them,  and  so  to  arrange 
these  elements  that  their  congruity  or  otherwise  shall 
appeal  to  the  eye  with  due  emphasis  on  each  fact  in 
relation  to  its  importance  in  the  main  scheme.  A mere 


99 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
cataloguing  of  the  elements  without  cohesion  of  in- 
terest so  that  they  remain  as  Lot  i,  2,  3,  etc.,  dumped 
haphazard  upon  the  paper  like  relics  of  a broken  home, 
is  not  composition — the  elements  remain  disintegrate, 
no  matter  how  wonderfully  expressed  as  individuals. 

Composition  is  the  expression  of  their  relation  rather 
than  of  their  separate  identities — the  sinking  of  these 
in  their  common  lot.  This  relation  has  no  line  of  its 
own  by  which  it  is  expressed  as  an  entity — it  is  the 
sum  of  the  parts  which  contribute  to  it — anything  in  a 
given  space  which  does  not  contribute  to  this  unit 
subtracts  from  its  value.  It  is  of  no  use  to  endeavour  to 
bring  about  unity  if  this  is  fundamentally  absent  by 
the  introduction  of  minor  links — the  chain  should  be 
of  equal  strength  throughout.  A background,  no  matter 
how  interesting  as  a unit,  is  an  obtrusive  nuisance  unless 
it  fulfils  its  function  of  being  in  the  background. 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  geranium,  no  matter  how 
exquisite,  must  take  their  place  if  needs  be,  subsidiary 
to  the  policeman  and  the  cat. 

Harmony  of  style  and  subject  matter 

It  will  be  found  necessary  to  adapt  the  technique  of 
illustration  to  different  styles  of  authorship.  The  sever- 
ity of  Albrecht  Diirer  would  little  harmonize  with  the 
sparkling  grace  of  the  “ Dolly  Dialogues.”  Biblical  or 
religious  subjects  are  too  frequently  approached  with 
a nerveless  technique  inanely  decorative  and  character- 
less, or  reconstructive  in  a dull  photographic  method — 
or  worst  of  all,  with  a falsetto  note  of  sentimentality. 
Every  style  will  eventually  be  judged  by  its  sincerity, 
which  may  be  mistaken  in  its  conviction,  but  the  passion 


100 


COMPOSITION  AND  PRINCIPLE  OF  GROUPS 
of  its  maintenance  will  at  least  make  it  respectable.  Too 
easy  an  acceptance  of  things  taught,  or  of  the  fashion 
of  the  moment,  without  a study  of  the  roots  from  which 


No.  40.  Blake.  Jerusalem. 

the  fashion  sprung,  or  of  the  basis  of  the  teaching,  may 
lead  to  the  use  of  a ready-made  or  second-hand  formula 
that  does  not  fit  the  personality  of  the  artist,  who  will 
appear  to  be  masquerading,  until  he  has  evolved  a style 
of  his  own.  At  the  same  time,  a style  that  is  more  or 
less  elastic,  so  that  it  can  be  stretched  in  one  direction 


lOI 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

or  another  without  too  much  strain  upon  it,  is  a useful 
asset  if  it  can  be  achieved. 

A method  founded  primarily  upon  outline,  to  which 
may  be  added  simplified  modelling  and  shadow,  but 
leaving  out  any  elaborate  attempt  to  render  surface  or 
minor  shades  or  atmosphere  is,  I believe,  the  basis  of 
the  finest  stylistic  draughtsmanship.  Complications  may 
be  introduced,  but  it  is  probable  that  a strict  method 
of  the  kind,  severe  as  its  limitations  are,  will  satisfy  the 
mind  trained  in  aesthetics  more  than  the  most  complex. 


102 


CHAPTER  XV 


ON  THE  USE  OF  MODELS 

There  is  a popular  idea  that  to  “ do  a thing 
out  of  your  head  ” is  in  some  way  a mark  of 
superiority.  A.  S.  Hartrick,  on  being  asked 
“ How  do  artists  do  ideal  heads  ? ” replied,  “ Mostly 
from  models.”  The  novelist  of  a certain  order  is  fond 
of  a situation  in  which  the  artist  is  in  despair  until  he 
can  find  the  exact  model  for  some  situation,  and  his 
epoch-making  masterpiece  is  consequently  hanging  fire 
until  she  (it  is  generally  she)  can  be  found  and  induced 
to  sit.  Something  similar  is  a not  uncommon  incident 
in  cinema  plays.  George  Eliot’s  “ Romola  ” is  made  to 
turn  dramatically  upon  a painter  having  surprised  an 
expression  of  abject  terror  upon  the  face  of  Romola’s 
idol,  who  is  finally  broken  on  her  recognizing  him  in 
the  picture.  A most  perfect  model  of  girlish  innocence 
and  ignorance  ; fair,  with  blank,  blue  eyes,  and  just 
budding  into  womanhood,  was  posing  to  me  for  the  first 
time,  and  filling  my  head  with  the  possibility  of  painting 
from  her  a new  Annunciation,  so  exquisitely  fresh  and 
virginal  was  the  contour,  colour  and  expression.  The  rain 
slashed  across  the  wide  studio  window  ; and  for  some- 
thing to  say,  to  conceal  my  thoughts,  I made  the  banal 
remark  : “ Wretched  weather,  isn’t  it  ? ” “ Yes,  it’s 
enough  ter  give  yer  the  Pip  ! ” said  my  little  madonna. 
I am  convinced  that  had  the  angel  of  the  Lord  announ- 
ced to  her,  her  only  reply  would  have  been  “Fancy  that!” 

103 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
None  the  less  she  would  have  been  the  most  perfect 
model  for  the  most  earnest  Pre-Raphaelite,  and  I 
always  regret  my  own  unpainted  picture.  The  descrip- 
tion of  a model  with  a squint  and  a snub  nose  as  having 
“ the  sort  of  face  you’d  paint  a landscape  from  ” was 
unkind  to  the  lady,  who  had  a splendid  figure. 


No.  41.  James  Northcote,  about  1850. 

Corner’s  Fables.  Wood  engraving.  School  of  Bewick. 


I was  once  interrupted  as  I was  illustrating  one  of 
H.  G.  Wells’  stories  to  see  two  young  women  who 
wished  to  know  if  I could  give  them  sittings  ; but  all 
my  arrangements  were  made,  and  the  drawings  in  hand 
contained  little  but  machinery.  “ I am  sorry,”  I said, 
“ that  I can  offer  you  nothing,  unless  one  of  you  can 
pose  for  a viaduct  and  the  other  for  a steam  engine.” 
They  seemed  quite  glad  to  escape,  but  the  expression 
that  had  passed  between  them  sent  me  back  to  the 
machinery  quite  happy,  so  that  they  did  help  indirectly 
with  the  background. 

The  use  of  models  is  an  art  in  itself,  and  both  the 
lack  of  study  from  life  and  excessive  dependence  upon 

104 


ON  THE  USE  OF  MODELS 

it  are  equally  apparent  to  the  expert  eye.  A drawing 
obviously  made  from  “ chic,”  where  any  trick  is  re- 
sorted to  in  order  to  cover  up  the  flimsiness  of  the  con- 
struction, is  hardly  more  distressing  than  the  con- 
scientious product  which  makes  a display  of  laborious 
and  unselected  copying  of  a pose  from  which  all  the 
life  has  evaporated,  and  only  the  model  remains. 

It  is,  in  fact,  rare  for  a model  to  contain  more  than 
a suggestion  of  what  an  artist  requires  at  any  given 
time — they  are  but  animate  lay  figures  as  a rule,  and 
there  is  hindrance  as  well  as  help  in  their  employment. 
Yet  to  fall  into  a habit  of  never  using  them  is  as  danger- 
ous as  too  great  a dependence  upon  them.  In  the  one 
case  errors  of  construction  and  an  air  of  unreality  may 
become  habitual  from  being  unchecked  ; in  the  other, 
a stiffness  and  lack  of  movement — paradoxically  a lack 
of  “ life  ” may  come  about  from  the  regular  employ- 
ment of  the  living  model. 

The  best  manner  of  their  employment  will  doubt- 
less vary  not  only  with  the  character  of  the  work  in 
hand,  but  with  the  temperament  and  preferences  of 
the  artist,  and  even  of  the  model  employed.  As  a general 
rule,  it  will  probably  be  found  best  to  make  the  first 
sketches  of  the  composition  without  reference  to  the 
model  at  all,  depending  upon  what  knowledge  of  the 
figure  the  student  may  already  possess,  getting  all  the 
vigour  and  spontaneity  of  movement  possible  into 
the  preliminary  work.  The  model  may  then  be  called 
in  and  posed  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  position  or 
positions  already  sketched  out,  when  it  can  readily  be 
seen  if  there  are  any  gross  errors  in  the  construction, 
and  if  such  or  such  a position  is  an  impossibility,  or 

105 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
can  be  improved  upon.  It  will,  of  course,  frequently 
be  the  case  that  the  model  cannot  be  posed  fully  in  the 
position  it  is  desired  to  represent ; but  if  the  figure 
has  been  logically  constructed  and  in  due  perspective 
in  the  sketch,  it  will  not  generally  be  found  a matter 
of  much  difficulty  to  study  the  model  part  by  part  in 


No.  42.  James  Northcote.  Corner’s  Fables. 


such  a way  as  to  correct  and  improve  upon  the  sketch 
by  rendering  it  convincing.  The  main  danger  to  be 
avoided  is  the  risk  of  losing  the  movement  of  the 
sketch,  and  making  the  composition  stiff  and  wooden. 
This  is  a defect  frequently  observable  in  the  work  of 
otherwise  capable  artists,  who  work  from  their  models 
in  such  a manner  that,  even  when  they  are  shown  as 
in  violent  action,  they  seem  to  be  standing  stock  still 
— “ struck  like  it  ” — like  the  figures  in  a tableau  vivant 
praying  for  the  curtain  to  come  down  and  release  them. 

Paul  Renouard  and  the  life 
The  excellence  of  the  work  of  Paul  Renouard  is  de- 
pendent largely  upon  his  practice  of  drawing  everything 

io6 


ON  THE  USE  OF  MODELS 
direct  from  life,  and  yet,  while  rarely  employing 
professional  models  for  his  purpose,  managing  to  keep 
the  prime  movement  and  correct  relation  throughout 
a complicated  group,  no  matter  what  the  action.  In 
spite  of  the  fulness  of  his  presentation,  it  is  always 
kept  vivid  and  dramatic  in  the  best  sense,  yet  it  appears 


No.  43.  James  Northcote.  Corner’s  Fables. 
These  are  full-size  reproductions. 


SO  simple  that  an  inexpert  artist  might  think  he  had 
nothing  more  to  do  than  to  draw  as  conscientiously 
as  Renouard  to  reproduce  his  effects. 

That  truth  to  life  demands  something  more  than  a 
simple  capacity  for  accurate  draughtsmanship  is  a 
fact  he  will  soon  discover,  and  that  for  all  its  fulness  of 
acceptance  there  is  an  extraordinary  amount  of  re- 
jection in  Renouard’s  work,  and  a more  alert  sense  of 
pattern  involved  than  in  rug  making.  It  is,  I believe, 
the  pattern  that  the  living  and  moving  Kaleidoscope 
makes  upon  his  eye  that  is  generally  the  prime  motif  in 
Renouard’s  work,  and  that,  having  noted  this  pattern, 
the  filling  it  with  complex  life  is  for  him,  though  labor- 
ious, a simple  task.  His  composition  has  a unity  with 

107 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
the  types  he  introduces,  because  he  does  not  “ make  ” 
his  compositions  in  the  ordinary  way,  but  “ observes  ” 
them,  as  he  observes  the  types  he  draws,  and  never 
forces  his  characters  into  a plot,  or  foists  a plot  upon 
his  characters,  like  an  unskilful  playwright,  but  gets 
both  from  the  same  source — life  itself — at  one  and 
the  same  time  in  a single  operation  of  the  mind.  He 
has  no  parti-pris,  and  it  is  remarkable  that  his  drawings 
of  English  types  are  vividly  English  to  an  English  eye, 
and  never  the  stock  “ Englishman  ” of  an  out-of-date 
French  convention,  which  remains  hardly  recognizable 
to  an  Englishman,  any  more,  doubtless,  than  our  stage 
or  cartoonist’s  “ Frenchman  ” resembles  anything 
under  the  sun. 

The  methods  of  Paul  Renouard  are  difficult  or  im- 
possible for  much  of  the  work  that  most  illustrators 
have  to  carry  out,  so  much  of  this  work  consisting  in 
the  creation  of  imaginary  scenes  and  characters  in  order 
to  make  them  vivid  to  the  eye,  as  the  actor  does  with 
the  work  of  the  dramatist  ; and  not  taking  his  subject 
so  directly  from  life.  The  famous  jibe  at  the  politician 
who  was  said  to  rely  upon  his  memory  for  his  jests  and 
his  imagination  for  his  facts,  might  with  no  more  than 
the  slightest  turn  lose  all  its  asperity  and  apply  as  a 
whole-hearted  compliment  to  the  illustrator. 

He  has  to  combine  the  factors  of  his  composition — 
to  create  them  on  paper,  either  from  memory  or  more 
generally,  by  that  process  of  logical  deduction  work- 
ing from  premises  half  of  fact  and  half  of  fancy,  which 
is  called  imagination.  The  Editor’s  final  word,  “ By 
Tuesday  morning,  9 o’clock,  certain,”  gives  a great 
jog  to  invention  that  everyone  who  has  worked  for  the 

108 


ON  THE  USE  OF  MODELS 
press  recognizes  with  a mixture  of  curse  and  blessing. 
But  for  such  work  it  is  impossible  to  retain  the  ser- 
vices of  a bearded  and  portly  Falstaff,  a clean-shaven 
Prince  Hal,  a Doll  Tearsheet,  a Bardolph,  and  a Dame 
Quickly  at  a moment’s  notice  to  pose  at  intervals  during 
the  small  hours.  If  a model  is  employed  at  all  that 
model,  man  or  woman,  will  most  probably  serve  for 
the  lot  ; in  fact,  in  turn,  the  entire  dramatis  personce. 
A fold  here,  the  pose  and  construction  of  a hand  there, 
the  turn  of  a head,  may  be  snatched  ; and  a pretty  girl 
is  as  good  a model  under  such  conditions  for  Bardolph’s 
nose  as  any  other  person  likely  to  turn  to  “ modelling  ” 
as  a profession  ; with  one  pillow  artfully  arranged  she 
may  pass  for  Dame  Quickly  ; and  with  two  for  FalstaflF. 

Henry  James  founded  a delicately  amusing  story 
upon  the  idea  of  some  charming  and  proud  old  gentle- 
man in  reduced  circumstances  offering  his  services 
to  a black  and  white  artist  as  the  “ Real,  Right  Thing 
but  the  story  turns  to  a deep  pathos  on  the  discovery 
that  a little  Italian  waiter  with  the  dramatic  instinct 
was  much  more  inspiring  to  the  artist.  It  is  indeed  rare 
in  fact,  though  painfully  common  in  fiction,  for  an 
artist  to  rely  for  “ inspiration  ” upon  the  discovery  of 
some  particular  type  of  face  in  life  for  the  creation  of 
his  “ masterpiece  ” of  imaginative  work. 

“Modelling”  is  a hard-working  and  highly  respect- 
able profession,  about  which  much  nonsense  has  been 
thought  and  written  by  ignorant  persons. 

Phil  May’s  Method 

As  is  well  known,  Phil  May’s  method  in  the  use  of  a 
model  was  to  make  a careful  and  full  study  in  pencil  or 

109 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
chalk  for  each  figure  in  a composition,  and  in  re-draw- 
ing  this  to  select  from  the  full  study  only  such  lines  as 
he  thought  essential,  being  more  pleased  with  the 
work  according  to  the  amount  of  simplification  he  could 
bring  about  without  sacrifice  of  effect.  All  apparent 
labour  was  thereby  done  away  with,  the  truly  “ finished” 
work  having  the  appearance  of  a sketch,  while  the  pre- 
liminary studies  were  often  full  of  what  is  more  gener- 
ally looked  on  as  “ finish,”  which  is  often  only  un- 
necessary polish,  or  the  introduction  of  a superfluous 
detail  ; which  in  his  case  would  have  detracted  from 
the  general  effect  of  the  work.  This  is  also  the  Japanese 
method.  Later  he  dispensed  to  a large  extent  with  the 
making  of  separate  studies,  working  direct  from  the 
model  upon  the  composition  previously  sketched  in, 
in  the  manner  already  described  ; but  he  never  dis- 
pensed with  his  sketch  book,  so  that  his  types  of  char- 
acter were  always  fresh — even  the  subsidiary  figures 
in  the  most  crowded  scene  standing  for  something 
observed,  and  never  being  a mere  padding  out  of  an 
otherwise  empty  space. 

MenzeVs  Studies 

Menzel  was  a tireless  student,  making  studies  of 
everything — of  the  various  ways  in  which  a hand  adapts 
itself  in  resting  upon  a sword  or  a walking-stick,  slight 
variations  in  the  turn  of  a head — and  so  on  endlessly, 
his  attention  being  arrested  by  the  commonest  objects, 
even  to  the  making  of  studies  of  the  successive  dishes 
placed  before  him  at  dinner.  Facts  were  to  him  the 
food  and  salt  of  life,  and  all  came  alike  to  him  from 
Frederick  the  Great  to  the  gaiter  button  of  a grenadier. 


1 10 


ON  THE  USE  OF  MODELS 
His  work  shows  no  concern  with  beauty,  which  he 
probably  thought  synonymous  with  prettiness — ^but 
all  objects  came  alike  to  his  gourmandizing  and  prodig- 
ious appetite.  His  industry  in  getting  them  stated  on 
paper  must  have  been  unceasing.  A waiter  in  a Soho 
restaurant  once  said  of  Menzel,  “ Ah,  he  make  study  ! 


No.  44.  James  Northcote.  Corner’s  Fables. 

The  designer  and  engravers  show  fine  collaboration. 


— ah,  yes — but  he  never  finish.”  Menzel  certainly  did 
make  a vast  number  of  drawings  of  unrelated  facts, 
apparently  from  an  encyclopaedic  love  of  them  for  their 
own  sake.  There  is  a story  told  of  him  at  a State  Ball, 
that  on  the  Emperor  asking  him  if  he  would  like  any 
particular  person  to  pose  for  him,  he  selected  a great 
lady  of  the  court,  who  was  highly  flattered,  and  posed 
steadily  for  a long  time,  having  to  forego  all  her  dances. 
On  asking  to  see  the  artist’s  work,  she  found  that  he 
had  drawn  nothing  but  just  so  much  of  her  elbow  as 
would  show  the  fall  of  the  lace  upon  it,  and  Menzel 
was  quite  unconscious  of  having  given  cause  for  her 
fury. 


Ill 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


False 


“ grace  ” 


We  frequently  see  in  the  effort  to  achieve  feminine 
grace  that  the  arms  are  drawn  in  such  a manner  that 
even  the  straight  bones  are  curved  to  avoid  an  angle  at 
the  elbow,  so  that  the  humerus  and 
forearm  appear  like  a festoon  hanging 
between  the  shoulder  and  the  wrist. 
Of  course  in  a flippant  and  artificial 
production  it  may  prove  very  amusing, 
where  it  is  part  of  the  artist’s  fun,  but 
seriously  to  imagine  that  grace  is 
achievable  by  such  means  is  mistaken. 

A model  once  told  how,  as  a little 
boy  in  the  country,  he  had  read  all  his 
sister’s  Family  Herald  Supplements, 
wherein  the  lords  and  ladies  were 
described  as  having  teeth  of  pearl, 
alabaster  foreheads,  shell-like  ears,  coral 
and  ruby  lips,  agate  eyes,  and  so  on  ; 
and  that  it  was  not  till  after  he  was  a full-grown  man 
that  he  realized  that  Peers  and  Peeresses  were  of  a like 
flesh  and  blood  with  ordinary  mortals,  though  even 
then  a doubt  remained  as  to  the  blueness  of  their 
blood. 

Grace  cannot  be  achieved  by  the  artist  by  such  fal- 
sifications ; the  most  graceful  creature  has  rigid  bones 
under  her  skin,  and  the  most  ethereal  intercepts  light 
as  efficiently  and  throws  as  dark  a shadow  as  Jack 
Johnson. 


No.  45. 

Gustave  Dore. 
Contes  Drolatiques. 
Wood  engraving. 
Full-size  repro- 
duction. 


II2 


CHAPTER  XVI 


PHIL  MAY  AND  BEARDSLEY 

IN  studying  the  work  of  Phil  May,  the  first  thing 
noticeable  is  how  much  of  value  he  put  into  it  by  a 
process  of  leaving  out.  It  is  as  though  he  put  his  ex- 
traordinary amount  of  observation  into  a sieve,  and 
riddled  away  everything  but  what  was  essential  to  his 
purpose.  Concision  of  statement  was  characteristic  of 
his  mind  : he  disliked  long  legends  beneath  his  drawings, 
wishing  them  to  require  as  little  accompanying  letter- 
press  as  possible,  and  that  the  drawing  itself  should 
convey  the  jest.  A well-known  drawing  of  his  in  an  early 
“ Annual  ” was  that  of  a lion-tamer  who  has  returned 
home  after  a spree,  and,  being  afraid  of  his  termagant 
wife,  has  locked  himself  into  the  lion’s  den.  The  wife 
is  shown  outside  the  cage  with  a bedroom  candlestick. 
“You  Coward  ! ” is  the  legend.  He  thought  the  “ You  ” 
unnecessary,  and  regretted  that  the  “ Annual  ” had  gone 
to  press  with  it.  His  conversation  was  staccato  rather 
than  fluent,  at  all  times. 

He  had  very  keen,  clear  sight,  and  saw  people  as 
individuals  rather  than  as  “ types,”  and  aided  his 
retentive  memory  by  perpetual  sketching  wherever 
he  was.  Though  he  never  scribbled,  but  always  drew 
with  definite  and  clear  intention,  he  filled  piles  of 
sketch  books  big  and  little,  and  covered  reams  of  paper 
trying  over  ideas.  Large  as  is  the  mass  of  his  published 
work,  the  bulk  of  sketches  and  studies  made  for  it  was 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
immense  ; but  of  this  he  destroyed  a great  deal  as  he 
went  along.  Even  so,  collectors  should  be  upon  their 
guard  against  forgeries,  many  of  which,  even  to  com- 
pletely filled  sketch  books,  passable  to  the  unwary,  may 
be  met  with. 

Superficially,  Phil  May’s  work,  like  Beardsley’s,  is 
quite  easy  to  imitate.  Both  are  dangerous  in  that  way 
to  a young  student  who  gets  bitten  with  a too  exclusive 
admiration  for  either  of  them,  without  going  through 
the  schooling  that  the  one  derived  from  life  itself,  the 
other  from  art  ; the  product  alone  should  not  be  taken 
as  a guide  without  studying  the  mental  processes  in- 
volved in  the  production.  To  produce  a real  “ Phil 
May  ” the  study  should  be  from  life,  more  than  from 
one  of  his  drawings,  and,  if  this  is  done,  the  student 
will  be  able  to  stand  firmly  upon  his  own  feet. 

In  view  of  Blake’s  appreciation  of  Hogarth,  it  is 
interesting  to  place  in  juxtaposition  with  him  Phil 
May  and  his  work,  which  it  is  easy  to  imagine  he  would 
have  appreciated  still  more  as  being  more  nearly,  even 
than  Hogarth,  his  artistic  counterpart.  I had  almost  said 
“ spiritual  ” as  well  as  artistic,  — but  spiritually  as  men 
they  had  more  in  common  than  appears  on  a superficial 
glance — but,  as  Blake  saw  not  the  tree,  but  the  Dryad, 
so  in  Phil  May  he  would  have  seen  the  spirit  of  universal 
sympathy,  pity  and  love  which  was  the  burden  of  his 
own  message.  Phil  May  was  gregarious  and  concrete 
in  his  appreciation  of  his  kind,  loving  men  and  women, 
where  Blake  was  a solitary  and  abstracted  soul  loving 
mankind.  Blake  was  a moralist,  while  Phil  May  might 
be  said  to  be  none  at  all,  and  yet  Phil  May,  in  a certain 
sense,  was  Blake’s  ideal  man.  He  was  happily  born  in 

114 


. Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 


II5 


No.  46. 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
that  he  had  no  malice  in  his  blood.  An  injury  to  Blake 
was  resented  passionately,  though  forgiveness  was  the 
central  tenet  of  his  creed  ; with  Phil  it  was  allowed  to 
run  oflF  like  water  from  a duck  ; or,  when  most  felt, 
was  shaken  off,  as  a dog  shakes  himself  dry.  Blake  was 
always  neglected  and  poor  : Phil  was  even  too  much 
run  after,  and  perhaps  “ his  spirit  worked,  lest  arms 
and  legs  want  play.”  He  made  a good  income,  but  was 
too  easily  generous  and  was  always  “ hard  up  ” — Blake 
made  next  to  nothing,  yet  was  probably  never  in  debt. 
Blake,  while  “ not  easily  jealous,”  was  irascible,  touchy, 
and  combative,  where  Phil  was  perhaps  too  easily 
acquiescent  and  genial.  Much  more  often  than  Blake, 
Phil  had  occasion  to  say  : 

“ Thy  friendship  oft  hath  made  my  heart  to  ache, 
Do  be  my  enemy  for  friendship’s  sake.” 

Yet  this  fiercest  of  all  epigrams  Blake  said  once  for  all 
to  the  more  or  less  inoffensive  Hayley  ; Phil  never  said 
it  to  any  one  of  the  crowd  of  worse  than  Hayleys  who 
surrounded  him,  sponging,  flattering,  and  spoiling 
him.  Blake’s  work  suffered  from  a defect  of  life  lived  in 
fellowship  with  the  common  run  of  mankind,  just  as 
Phil’s  suffered  from  excess.  But  between  this  com- 
pleteness of  contrast  we  get  almost  the  entire  range  of 
expression  in  illustrative  art.  It  was  my  happy  fortune 
to  become  well  acquainted  with  the  work  of  Blake  as  a 
schoolboy,  and  at  about  twenty-one  to  form  an  intimate 
friendship  with  Phil  May  that  lasted  from  the  time  I 
first  met  him  when  he  was  five  or  six  and  twenty  until 
his  death. 

It  is  almost  a pity  that  Phil,  with  all  his  knowledge 

ii6 


PHIL  MAY  AND  BEARDSLEY 
of  historic  and  modern  costume  and  his  interest  in  it, 
the  stage,  and  the  dramatic  side  of  life  as  he  saw  it 
lived,  for  which  he  had  so  quick  an  eye,  should  have 


No.  47.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 

left  practically  no  book  illustrations,  nearly  everything 
he  did  being  printed  in  ephemeral  publications,  un- 
bound or  simply  paper-covered,  so  that  it  is  already 

117 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
becoming  rare  in  its  original  state.  On  his  death  selec- 
tions of  his  work  were  collected  and  republished  in 
book  form,  but  the  “ Parson  and  the  Painter  ” (which 
was  itself  a paper-covered  selection  from  his  work  in 
the  St.  Stephen’s  Review)  must  have  fallen  to  pieces 
and  been  thrown  away  except  for  stray  copies  here  and 
there.  Some  people  were  wise  enough  to  bind  up  the 
“ Annuals  ” ; “ Guttersnipes  ” was  in  thin  boards, 
so  stood  a better  chance  of  survival  than  most  of  his 
work,  and  as  it  contains  some  of  his  best,  freest,  and 
most  mature  this  is  lucky. 

Time  brings  about  its  revenges  in  this  way  : Blake 
was  never  the  public  idol  that  Phil  May  was  ; his  work 
was  never  spread  broadcast,  yet  every  rare  scrap  that 
he  did  is  now  ticketed  and  catalogued  ; while  Phil’s 
lavish  and  popular  output  has  now  dwindled  by  the 
wastage  of  Time  into  a scarcity  that  before  long  may 
match  that  of  Blake,  though  the  original  drawings  of 
course  remain. 

Blake,  so  far  as  his  art  is  concerned,  shows  an  almost 
entire  lack  of  humour,  his  mind  being  preoccupied 
with  the  abstract  and  eternal,  regardless  of  the  things 
of  every  day,  regarding  time  as  an  unbroken  unit.  For 
Phil  it  was  the  perpetual  change  and  bustle  of  night 
and  day,  and  the  turning  of  one  into  the  other  in  the 
wearying  search  for  fun  that  wore  him  out.  At  heart 
he  was  as  sad  a man  as  Blake  was  happy,  but  it  is  the 
fun  of  the  spectacle  that  he  gives,  seen  through  his 
kindly  and  pitying,  but  hopeless,  eyes  ; while  Blake, 
looking  inward,  finds  terror  and  solemnity  unlit  by  a 
gleam  of  humour,  but  always  with  the  shining  hope 
that  the  New  Jerusalem  shall  be  built  “ in  England’s 

ii8 


No.  48.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 

Dore  had  a special  gift  for  expressing  great  size  in  a small  space, 
see  particularly  Nos.  49  and  50. 


II9 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
green  and  pleasant  land,”  whereas  “ My  Strand  ” was 
the  land  of  Phil  May’s  heart’s  desire. 

To  go  back — it  was  Phil  May  who  should  have 
illustrated  Chaucer  and  not  Blake  nor  Stothard — and 
what  an  inimitable  series  could  he  have  made  of  draw- 
ings to  Shakespeare’s  comedies  from  his  unrivalled 
knowledge  of  human  types  and  characters,  his  power 
over  the  expression  of  face  and  figure,  and  his  remark- 
able sense  of  “ situation.”  It  should  not  be  overlooked 
that  while  many  so-called  humorous  artists  are  sup- 
plied with  “ jokes  ” to  which  they  simply  make  “ con- 
versation ” drawings  more  or  less  appropriate,  Phil 
May  was  in  the  main  his  own  jester,  and  that  the 
humour  of  the  legend  is  almost  invariably  on  all  fours 
with  the  drawing,  being  direct  from  life  and  its  daily 
happenings,  with  only  the  same  spice  of  caricature  to 
give  it  immediate  force  and  enough  to  remove  it  from 
the  banality  of  common  experience  unfiltered  through 
a selective  mind.  Something  would  strike  him  in  the 
talk  which  he  would  seize,  and  with  a twist  of  fancy  lift 
into  the  realm  of  the  comic  or  the  absurd.  I once  asked 
him  if  he  ever  dreamed  a joke.  Many  a time,  he  said, 
things  amused  him  in  dreams,  but  they  were  no  good 
in  the  morning,  and  that  the  only  one  he  ever  used 
was  that  of  a toper  lying  in  the  street  with  “ (Hie  !) 
jacet  ” as  legend. 

There  is  a curiously  prevalent  notion,  even  among 
those  who  most  enjoy  a humorous  drawing,  that  be- 
cause it  is  humorous  it  is  by  that  much  less  as  a work  of 
art.  It  is  far  more  easy  to  draw  a dozen  backboneless, 
long-robed  figures  in  wings  with  characterless  faces, 
playing  archaic  fiddles  with  the  bow  sideways  across 


120 


PHIL  MAY  AND  BEARDSLEY 
the  keyboard,  than  to  draw  a Cockney  child  running 
away  from  a policeman  and  chaffing  him  as  he  runs. 
Yet  the  one,  though  nobody  is  moved  by  it  in  any  way, 
is  regarded  dutifully  as  high  art  because  of  its  subject ; 
and  the  more  difficult  performance,  which  takes  every- 
one between  the  ribs,  is  passed  over,  no  matter  how 
finely  observed,  arranged  and  characterized,  as  of  less 
account,  simply  because  it  is  funny.  Presumably  in 
some  such  spirit  people  would  sometimes  say  to  Phil 
May,  “ Why  don’t  you  do  something  serious  ? ” His 
comment  was,  “ If  you’re  going  to  be  serious  you’ve 
got  to  be  so  damned  good.” 

“ Serious  ” he  was  on  occasion  where  his  sympathies 
were  touched.  But,  as  though  shy  of  anything  approach- 
ing sentimentality,  it  was  rarely  that  he  allowed  rein  to 
his  pathetic  humour,  though  it  is  not  difficult  to  find 
examples  of  it.  The  little  written  foreword  to  “ Gutter- 
snipes,” which  contains  a note  of  slightly  false  and 
specious  pathos,  was  suggested  by  the  publisher.  He 
had  simply  copied  it  out. 

He  had  walked  every  day  for  a week  from  his  studio 
in  Holland  Park  Road  to  the  Graphic  Office,  close  to 
the  Law  Courts.  “ What  a saving  in  hansoms  ! ” I said. 
“ Yes,  but  think  of  the  crossing-sweepers,”  he  replied, 
and  there  was  less  than  half  a jest  intended.  I have  no 
doubt  whatever  that  it  cost  him  much  more  to  walk 
than  to  drive.  Of  sympathy  of  this  kind  plenty  can  be 
found  in  his  work. 

The  nearest  popular  immortal  to  compare  him  with 
that  I can  think  of  is  Burns.  While  his  method  of  ex- 
pression hardly  varied,  having  been  set  for  him  largely 
by  his  environment,  hke  the  language  of  a native 


I2I 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

country,  he  yet  made  his  monosyllabic  style  of  noun 
and  verb  extraordinarily  elastic,  seeing  all  things  with 
a fresh  eye  and  giving  out  what  he  sees  in  the  “ Vola- 
puk  ” of  line.  His  humour  has  to  a large  extent  gone 
into  the  language.  Those  clean-cut  yet  kindly  sum- 
maries of  life  which  he  made  from  week  to  week  and 
from  day  to  day  have  become  part  of  the 
general  possession,  like  that  of  Burns. 

His  influence  on  “ black  and  white  ” 
is  still  traceable  in  England  and 
Australia,  where  he  worked  ; increas- 
ingly and  to  the  good,  as  the  underlying 
principles  of  his  art  rather  than  the 
temporal  accidents  of  appearance  be- 
come more  absorbed,  and  this  influence 
can  only  be  to  the  good. 


No.  49. 

Gustave  Dore. 
Contes  Drolatiques. 
Compare  this  draw- 
ing with  No.  50. 


Beardsley 

Facts  existed  for  Beardsley  no  more  than  as  he  would 
have  them  ; Nature  “ put  him  out.”  He  liked  the  world 
well  aired,  not  crude  and  raw  ; solid  facts  got  in  the 
way,  and  were  a stumbling  block  in  so  entirely  artificial 
and  amusing  a world.  If  a physical  fact  was  ugly  it  had 
to  be  dismissed,  or  at  least,  charmingly  put — its  sting 
drawn  and  made  amusing  and  unreal.  Apart  from  the 
line  of  pattern  he  was  an  insecure  draughtsman.  Pattern 
deals  in  length  and  breadth  alone  ; “ thickness  ” in- 
troduced a factor  he  never  succeeded  in  mastering  ; so 
that  when,  as  he  does  on  occasion,  he  suggests  light  and 
shade  or  modelling,  it  is  generally  with  timidity,  and 
his  unity  fails.  His  style  at  its  purest  depends  upon 
rhythm  of  line  and  balance  of  pattern,  half  tones  of 


122 


No.  50.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 

This  drawing,  though  it  has  more  detail,  is  hardly  “larger”  than  No.  49. 


123 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
colour  being  arrived  at  by  a free  use  of  ornament  upon 
costumes,  furniture  or  hangings,  a dotted  line  being 
frequently  resorted  to  where  a full  line  would  have 

come  out  of  place  and 
jumbled  the  objects  in  the 
composition. 

There  are  indications  in 
his  later  work  of  an  endeav- 
our to  enrich  his  technique, 
as  though  he  was  beginning 
to  chafe  under  the  restraint 
of  a style  so  limited  in  its 
powers  of  objective  expres- 
sion. It  rejected  what  some- 
times he  wished  to  include. 
He  wrote  with  as  much 
delicate  artificiality  as  he 
drew,  and  made  as  pretty 
arabesques  of  fancy,  his 
work  being  all  of  a piece. 
There  is  something  illumin- 
ating in  the  passage  to  which 
one  of  his  best  drawings  is 
an  illustration  : “ Would  to  heaven,”  he  sighed,  “ I 
might  receive  the  assurance  of  a looking-glass  before  I 
make  my  debut ! However,  as  she  is  a Goddess,  I 
doubt  not  her  eyes  are  a little  sated  with  perfection, 
and  may  not  be  displeased  to  see  it  crowned  with  a 
tiny  fault.” 

“ A wild  rose  had  caught  upon  the  trimmings  of  his 
ruff,  and  in  the  first  flush  of  displeasure  he  would  have 
struck  it  brusquely  away  and  most  severely  punished 


No.  51.  Gustave  Dore. 
Contes  Drolatiques. 


124 


PHIL  MAY  AND  BEARDSLEY 

the  offending  flower.  But  the  ruffled  mood  lasted  only 
a moment,  for  there  was  something  so  deliciously  in- 
congruous in  the  hardy  petal’s  invasion  of  so  delicate 
a thing,  that  Fanfreluche  withheld  the  finger  of  re- 
sentment and  vowed  that  the  wild  rose  should  stay 
where  it  had  clung — a passport,  as  it  were,  from  the 
upper  to  the  under  world.” 

“ The  very  excess  and  violence  of  the  fault,”  he  said, 
“ will  be  its  excuse,”  and,  undoing  a tangle  in  the  tassel 
of  his  stick,  stepped  into  the  shadowy  corridor  that  ran 
into  the  very  bosom  of  the  wan  hill — stepped  with  the 
admirable  aplomb  and  unwrinkled  suavity  of  “ Don 
John.”  (“  Under  the  Hill,”  The  Savoy,  No.  i). 

This  is  as  near  to  nature  as  he  ever  got,  and  it  is  just 
possible  that  it  unconsciously  conveys  the  hint  of  an 
almost  sentimental  regret  in  the  highly  self-conscious 
artist. 


125 


CHAPTER  XVII 


BOTTICELLI  AND  PROGRESSIVE  INTEREST 

Botticelli  made  a series  of  drawings  to 
illustrate  the  works  of  Dante — the  “ Inferno,” 
the  “ Purgatorio,”  and  the  “ Paradiso.” 

The  “ Inferno  ” appears  to  have  been  too  fierce  a 
subject  for  the  suave  and  gentle  spirit  of  the  artist,  who, 
while  not  shrinking  from  it,  treats  it  in  a curiously 
untouched  and  naif  manner,  as  something  far  off  and 
not  realized,  quite  unlike  the  text.  There  are,  to  be 
sure,  flames  and  thorns  and  devils,  all  rather  bogeyish 
and  quaint  ; so  that  the  torments  of  the  damned,  as 
he  shows  them,  are  calculated  to  wring  a smile,  rather 
than  a sympathetic  twinge,  from  the  spectator,  as  they 
hardly  convey  the  idea  of  suffering  or  terror.  A Chinese 
torturer  would  think  little  of  them,  and  any  illustrated 
version  of  Foxe’s  Book  of  Martyrs  would  put  them  in 
the  shade.  A normally  humorous  mind  with  a dash  of 
brutality  rather  than  of  polished  cruelty  may  find 
something  lacking  which  it  would  itself  have  to  supply. 
His  devils  and  the  sufferings  of  the  damned  are  simply 
fancies  ; his  imagination  and  his  sympathies  are  ex- 
pressed rather  in  the  way  in  which  he  follows  the  effect 
upon  Virgil  and  Dante  in  their  passage  through  the 
many  scenes  of  suffering  depicted.  In  these  two  figures 
he  becomes  almost  realistic  at  times,  and  in  this,  prob- 
ably unconsciously,  displays  his  own  pitiful  attitude. 
He  introduces  them  again  and  again  in  the  same 

126 


BOTTICELLI  AND  PROGRESSIVE  INTEREST 
composition  passing  through  varied  emotions  from  one 
incident  to  another  ; in  one  drawing  they  appear  as 
many  as  seven  times.  Their  appearance  and  reappear- 


No.  52.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 

Notice,  “etc.”  (in  reverse)  to  indicate  more  windows  than 
are  engraved. 


ance  in  this  way  give  a curious  sense  of  continuity,  not 
only  to  the  somewhat  slack  composition  of  the  separate 
designs,  but  to  the  whole  series.  Interesting  as  these 
drawings  are  as  a sidelight  upon  Botticelli’s  art  and 
mind,  they  are  hardly  to  be  taken  as  objects  of  study 
for  composition  or  method  of  presentment  ; they  have 
the  appearance  of  being  only  partially  thought  out  by 
him,  and  cannot  be  regarded  as  final  in  their  form. 
There  is  a lack  of  economy  of  space  ; figures  are  scat- 


No.  53.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 

Notice  in  all  these  head  and  tail  pieces  (reproduced  full  size) 
the  amount  of  space  expressed  and  the  dramatic  force  of  the 
tiny  figures. 

tered  and  sprinkled  about  higgledy-piggledy  by  simple 
multiplication  without  condensation  of  interest,  pre- 
dominance or  subordination  of  one  thing  to  another. 

127 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
The  result  is  flatness  ; the  attention  is  squandered  on 
the  bundle  of  hay  in  its  search  for  the  needle  in  it. 

The  device  of  introducing  Virgil  and  Dante  several 
times  processionally  in  one  composition  is  interesting 


No.  54.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 


as  an  example  of  the  effort  to  overcome  the  natural 
limitation  of  pictorial  art  to  a given  instant  in  time, 
and  to  a single  point  of  view,  which  appears  from  a 
literary  review  {Saturday  Westminster,  Sept.  i8th, 
1920)  to  have  been  common  enough.  “.  . . . a portrait, 
though  it  betrays  character,  and  often  has  what  painters, 
speaking  technically,  call  movement,  cannot  really 
speak,  and  except  in  the  primitive  days  when  one  saint 
could  be  and  often  was  shown  being  eaten  and  dis- 
gorged by  the  same  dragon  in  the  same  picture,  a 


BOTTICELLI  AND  PROGRESSIVE  INTEREST 
portrait  does  not  show  its  subject  in  more  than  one 
place.” 

In  modern  days  this  progressive  interest  has  been 
generally  disallowed  by  purists  as  hardly  proper  to 
pictorial  art.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  inadmis- 


No.  56.  Gustave  Dore.  Contes  Drolatiques. 


sible  if  the  subject  is  realistically  treated ; but  in  the 
presentation  of  an  idea  the  same  objection  cannot  hold 
with  the  same  force. 

Recording  impressions  of  movement.  Difference  between 
the  eye  and  the  camera 

The  qualification  “at  a given  moment  of  time  ” 
must  be  pressed  home  as  marking  in  the  main  the 
difference  between  the  art  of  the  illustrator  and  of  the 
narrator  or  musician.  Literature  and  music  are  pro- 
gressive and  cumulative,  while  pictorial  art  is  static. 

In  so  far  as  it  aims  at  producing  an  emotion  as  nearly 
as  possible  similar  to  that  received  by  the  artist  through 
the  eye  from  life  itself,  it  will  give  a result  not  far  re- 
moved from  that  of  an  instantaneous  photograph  ; yet 
with  certain  important  modifications.  In  the  case  of 
the  camera  an  instantaneous  exposure  is  made  com- 
parable to  the  opening  and  immediate  closing  of  the 

129 


K 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
eye  ; and  in  the  momentary  interval  between  the  two 
a complete  image  of  all  the  facts  in  front  of  the  lens  is 
recorded.  The  brain  is  not  so  rapidly  receptive  a re- 
corder as  the  camera,  and  does  not,  having  received 
an  impression,  dispose  of  it  as  rapidly  as  it  has  been 
received.  In  the  case  of  an  impression  from  rapidly 
moving  objects  there  is  an  appreciable  period  of  time 
in  which  their  appearance  is  still  retained  upon  the 
retina,  even  while  the  vision  is  recording  fresh  im- 
pressions, so  that  overlapping  of  memory  and  active 
vision  takes  place,  and  a certain  confusion  results  be- 
tween the  two — the  memory  remaining  after  the  action 
has  taken  place. 

The  reader  can  prove  this  for  himself  by  moving  his 
hand  up  and  down  from  the  wrist  so  rapidly  as  to  see  a 
hand  at  each  end  of  the  movement  and  a blurred  suc- 
cession of  hands  in  between.  The  slight  pause  at  the 
end  of  each  movement  gives  the  brain  time  to  grasp 
the  appearance  of  the  hand,  but  the  intervening  move- 
ment is  so  rapid  as  to  be  recorded  only  as  a semi- 
transparent blur,  where  an  indistinct  and  rapidly  fading 
streak  is  left  upon  the  retina,  and  the  background  is 
only  half  realized.  Suppose  a camera  to  be  exposed 
while  the  hand  is  midway  in  its  movement,  the  hand 
will  appear,  not  as  it  does  to  the  eye,  partially  only, 
but  distinctly  ; more  distinctly  even  than  the  eye  re- 
cords at  the  moment  of  the  slight  pause  when  the 
movement  of  the  hand  is  reversed,  and  moreover,  the 
background  will  be  comparatively  unaffected.  It  is 
worth  pointing  out  that  in  this  matter  the  camera  does 
not  show  the  artist  to  be  in  error  in  his  observation,  as 
is  popularly  supposed  to  be  the  case,  but  only  that  the 

130 


BOTTICELLI  AND  PROGRESSIVE  INTEREST 
camera  and  the  brain  record  at  different  speeds,  and 
that  the  camera  has  no  memory  to  complicate  the 
impression. 

In  such  a case  the  artist  will  probably  choose  for 


No.  57.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great.  Early  facsimile. 
Wood  engraving.  Menzel’s  counterpart  is  Beardsley. 


record  the  hand  at  the  moment  when  his  eye  records 
the  completest  impression ; that  is,  at  the  moment  of 
arrested  movement,  when  the  hand  is  at  the  turn. 

In  the  case  of  a galloping  horse,  he  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  use  a convention  based  upon  a series  of  im- 
pressions received  at  more  than  a single  instant  of  time, 

131 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
so  that  each  limb  is  shown  at  the  moment  of  arrested 
movement  ; and  the  artist’s  convention  frequently 
goes  nearer  to  visual  truth  than  the  camera’s  record  of 
a fact  too  momentary  to  be  fully  recorded  individually 
by  the  brain,  but  only  as  an  infinitesimal  component 
part  of  an  indistinct  blur  or  streak. 

It  has  been  unusual  for  the  artist  to  go  out  of  his  way 
to  make  attempts  at  recording  such  impressions, 
though  it  has  been  and  is  done  ; and  it  yields  a certain 
interest  to  observe  how  the  problem  is  solved,  as  this 
affords  a clue  to  the  artist’s  preoccupation  with  the 
relative  significance  of  the  object  that  is  moving,  and 
the  appearance  of  its  movement.  A fluttering  bird 
frequently  gives  the  impression  to  the  eye  of  having 
four  or  more  wings,  and  I remember  being  struck  with 
the  truth  of  a representation  of  this  impression  in  a 
picture  by  so  very  conservative  an  artist  as  the  late 
Lionel  Smythe.  In  certain  “ futurist  ” pictures  I have 
seen  attempts  scientifically  to  record  such  impressions 
of  movement.  One  of  these  was  a highly  interesting 
and  ambitious  attempt  at  recording  on  a large  scale  the 
effect  of  a crowd  of  dancing  figures.  But  such  attempts, 
no  matter  how  the  skill  of  the  artist  may  be  called  upon 
to  analyse  and  execute  them,  deal  rather,  perhaps,  with 
the  science  of  optics  than  with  aesthetic  vision.  To  the 
curious  they  are  full  of  interest,  and,  because  they  may 
open  up  new  paths  of  delight  in  beauty  or  interest,  are 
therefore  not  lightly  to  be  dismissed  or  discouraged. 
At  the  same  time,  it  is  amusing  to  notice  that  so  honest 
an  attempt  at  recording  a quite  ordinary  vision  of 
moving  objects  is  apt  to  stir  the  derision  of  critics  and 
ignorant  people  alike,  who  are  unaccustomed  to  the 

132 


BOTTICELLI  AND  PROGRESSIVE  INTEREST 
analysis  of  their  own  most  ordinary  sensations,  and  look 
at  life  always  through  some  convention  that  has  been 
imposed  upon  them.  The  present  trend  of  art,  how- 
ever, seems  to  be  away  not  only  from  exact  recording 


No.  58.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 


of  appearances  as  in  a group  of  still  life,  but  even  from 
the  more  subtle  record  of  the  impression  made  upon 
the  eye,  which  had  so  filled  the  artistic  horizon. 

Present  tendencies 

This  tendency  expresses  itself  in  various  ways.  The 
artist  has  found  that  no  amount  of  labour  can  compete 
in  literalness  with  a simple  snap-shot,  and  that  his 
business  lies  not  in  a full  or  even  direct  recording  of 
the  external  facts  observed  by  him,  so  much  as  in  the 
manner  of  their  presentation.  Fulness  of  record  for  its 
own  sake  has  ceased  to  yield  any  interest,  and  the 
labour  involved,  which  at  one  time  was  a cause  of 


133 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
admiration,  is  now  rather  provocative  of  a certain  pity- 
ing wonder  at  its  obstinacy.  Selection  of  essentials, 
involving  the  rejection  of  all  that  is  insignificant,  and 
their  effective  and  appropriate  presentation,  is  having 
its  turn  again  after  a long  period  during  w^hich  the 
public  was  inclined  to  look  rather  for  the  trivialities 
and  trimmings  of  “ likeness  ” or  prettiness  than  for 
its  firm  grasp  of  truth  or  beauty.  “ Likeness,”  in  fact, 
even  in  inessentials,  and  a falsified  Prettiness,  had  be- 
come synonyms  for  Truth  and  Beauty. 


134 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


SANDYS  AND  BOYD  HOUGHTON 

Following  closely  upon  the  Pre-Raphaelites 
with  their  devoted  and  high-minded  fastidious- 
ness came  the  school  of  domestic  illustrators  of 
the  Sixties — aiming  in  general  not  so  high,  and  taking 
their  task  with  a lighter  heart.  Millais  himself  relaxed, 
and  most  of  his  work  in  later  days  was  of  less  importance 
than  that  of  Sandys,  Houghton  and  Keene  of  the  same 
time.  The  charm  of  this  w^ork  lay  largely  in  its  robustious 
common  sense,  and  common  humanity.  There  was  a full 
acceptance  of  things  and  people  as  they  are  without  any 
affectation  of  high  art,  or  that  things  are  other  to  an 
artist  than  to  other  mortals  except  in  the  greater  in- 
tensity of  the  artist’s  interest.  The  world  they  lived 
in  was  good  enough  for  them — and  no  art  too  good 
or  “ high  ” to  express  their  view  of  it.  There  was  a 
healthy  and  simple  relish  about  the  way  they  took  life 
— so  that  the  affectations  and  languors  of  the  Eighties 
and  the  decadence  that  marked  the  Nineties  form  a 
strange  sequel  to  so  full-blooded  a parentage.  The  art 
of  the  Sixties  had  been  the  most  British — even  the 
most  English — expression  yet  found  since  Hogarth, 
although  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  leaders  Millais,  John 
Bullish  as  he  was  in  appearance,  being  a Jerseyman, 
was  presumably  predominantly  French  in  blood — 
Rossetti  was  half  Italian.  The  influences  they  had  first 
chosen  were  mediaeval  and  foreign.  But  Pinwell, 

135 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
Houghton,  Pettie,  Keene,  Lawless,  Mahoney  were  all 
British,  and,  with  the  exception  of  Sandys,  submitted 
to  no  influence  in  art  that  was  not  already  rooted  in 
England,  and  drew  their  inspiration  direct  and  almost 


No.  59.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 

entirely  from  the  life  of  the  time,  preferably  even  in 
the  choice  of  their  subject  matter. 

It  is  curious  to  turn  up  the  subject  matter  of  many 
of  the  finest  drawings  of  the  Sixties  in  order  to  study 
what  inspiration  they  could  find  in  the  text  supplied. 
For  instance,  in  spite  of  the  renown  of  Borrow  at  the 
present  day,  and  his  pride  as  a linguist,  philologist  or 
translator,  it  would  be  safe  to  wager  that  ten  literary 
men  who  know  and  admire  Sandys’  drawing,  “ Harold 
Harfagr,”  to  one  who  knows  what  it  illustrates. 

orrow’s  translation  is  as  flat  and  unfinished  as  Sandys’ 
illustration  is  still  breathing  and  living  art — one  of  the 

136 


SANDYS  AND  BOYD  HOUGHTON 
perfect  and  impressive  compositions  that  this  world 
has  produced.  In  spite  of  Sandys’  obvious  and  general 
debt  to  Diirer,  he  appears  in  this  drawing  freer  from 
any  outside  influence  than  is  usual  with  him  ; and  for 
once,  for  all  his  restraint,  to  have  been  almost  evenly 
swayed  by  intellect  and 
emotion.  Not  a line 
went  astray,  no  detail 
obtruded  itself,  nor  did 
the  interest  of  the  mass 
call  for  its  suppression. 

In  spite  of  the  severity 
of  the  line  which  makes 
itself  felt  throughout, 
and  all  the  underlying 
austerity,  there  is  a 
weight  and  solemnity  of 
tone  that  conveys  all  the  richness  of  sunset  colour, 
and  the  sound  the  gravity  and  dignity  of  an  organ. 

The  sympathies  of  Sandys  are  spread  evenly  over 
living  and  inanimate  objects,  and  he  presents  them  to 
us  with  an  impartial  precision.  His  style  is  undis- 
guisedly  modelled  upon  that  of  Diirer — even  the  sig- 
nature at  times  shows  traces  of  the  influence — but  he 
remains  curiously  self-possessed,  as  though  even  in  his 
most  consistent  admiration  his  is  a bloodless  and  regu- 
lated passion  of  the  mind  rather  than  of  the  heart. 

The  art  of  Boyd  Houghton  oflFers  an  interesting 
subject  for  comparison  with  that  of  Sandys.  Nothing 
could  be  more  hearty  and  vigorous  in  attack,  nor  more 
human  in  sympathy.  His  love  of  children,  of  the  healthy 
beauty  of  woman,  of  youth  and  old  age,  his  delight  in 

137 


No.  60.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 
Menzel  was  a tireless  student  of  fact, 
hands  especially. 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

fantastic  character,  his  joy  in  the  jolly  rotundity  of  a 
man  in  a train,  of  the  Emperor  of  China,  or  of  Sancho 
Panza,  no  less  than  in  the  leanness  of  Don  Quixote — 
his  acceptance  of  the  decorative  value  of  the  curly 
Victorian  furniture  and  the  crinoline,  his  delight  in 
glorious  masses  of  flowing  hair,  point  to  a full,  even 
at  times  a riotous,  enjoyment  of  the  passing  show,  in 
which  his  sympathies  gave  him  an  actual  part,  rather 
than  made  him  a detached  spectator.  His  work  gives 
evidence  of  an  unfailing  interest  in  oddities  of  char- 
acter or  pose  : he  seizes  upon  what  an  academic  mind 
regards  as  negligible  or  casts  aside  as  waste.  His  power 
of  dramatic  representation  of  emotion  is  unsurpassed. 
The  languishment  of  Beder  in  love,  the  abandon  of  the 
Remorse  of  Camaralzaman,  the  pathos  of  the  death  of 
the  old  gardener,  the  passion  in  the  meeting  of  the 
Prince  and  Badoura,  the  tenderness  of  “ My  Treasure,” 
are  fine  examples.  He  fills  the  allotted  space  of  his 
design  in  such  a way  as  to  appear  not  only  to  enrich  it 
with  life  and  colour,  but  definitely  to  expand  it,  as 
though  the  surrounding  line  were  the  sash  of  a window 
through  which  we  look  out  upon  the  world  he  would 
take  us  into.  There  is  no  drawing  more  perfect  in  its 
kind  in  the  world  than  the  tiny  masterpiece,  “ Tom, 
Tom,  the  Piper’s  Son.”  The  piper  is  a figure  to  haunt 
a dream  ; his  skinny,  avaricious  knuckles,  the  row  of 
malicious  teeth,  and  the  glitter  of  his  eyes,  are  a miracle 
of  appreciative  draughtsmanship.  Throughout  not  a 
touch  goes  astray  either  in  character  or  rhythm,  which 
are  here  blended  in  a manner  inspired.  The  original 
drawing,  which  I have  had  in  my  hand  many  times, 
always  impressed  me  as  being  remarkable  for  its 

138 


SANDYS  AND  BOYD  HOUGHTON 
largeness  of  handling  on  so  tiny  a scale,  no  more  than 
3^  in.  by  5 in.  In  a reproduction  we  have  grown  so  used 
to  a factitious  delicacy  achieved  by  reduction  that  it  is 
remarkable  how  this  drawing  can  hold  its  own  in  this 


No.  61.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great 


very  particular  against  drawings  so  reduced.  So  far 
from  gaining,  it  would  undoubtedly  lose  by  reduction  ; 
but  it  would  make  a nobly  decorative  design  enlarged 
to  life  size,  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  dispose  light, 
mass,  and  tone  to  better  advantage. 

The  grasp,  vigour,  and  unflagging  interest  he  dis- 
plays are  extraordinary.  There  is  never  a lifeless  com- 
position of  models  to  be  found — the  note  is  always 
personal  and  has  always  a direct  appeal  to  the  eye.  He 
never  relies  only  upon  his  skill  as  a draughtsman  to 
carry  him  through,  but  puts  all  his  heart  into  the  work 

139 


THE  ARl'  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
in  hand  without  shirking.  Rapid  or  careless  he  may  be, 
but  never  listless  or  inert.  His  hand  is  never  busy 
while  his  mind  is  asleep,  but  he  gives  us  the  sense  of 
harmonious  and  instant  co-operation  between  the  two 
and  a zest  and  relish  which  we  partake  with  him. 

Cross  hatching 

Technically  remarkable  is  his  fertility  of  resource 
and  mastery  of  cross  hatching,  in  which  he  indulges 
freely  where  it  will  serve  his  purpose.  It  is  always  bold 
and  luminous,  and  he  manages  to  avoid  what  may  be 
called  the  “ flicker,”  which  distresses  the  eye,  not  only 
in  a pen  drawing,  but  more  still  in  the  case  of  repro- 
duction on  zinc  or  copper,  where  it  is  frequently 
emphasized  by  the  acid.  A fine  example  to  study  for 
the  variety  and  range  of  luminous  tone  is  the  “ Saint’s 
Story.”  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  draughtsman 
on  wood  and  the  wood  engraver  have  not  the  resources 
of  surface  printing  at  command  to  suppress  the  jumpi- 
ness of  the  squares  and  diamonds  of  white  in  their  cross 
hatching  that  the  etcher  has,  so  that  more  demand  is 
made  upon  his  judgment  in  the  laying  of  a tone.  It  is 
worth  noticing  that  where  the  light  falls  direct  upon 
an  object,  cross  hatching  has  not  been  employed,  except 
in  one  place  to  give  texture  to  a material.  The  sense  of 
bright  moonlight  upon  varying  surfaces  of  stone,  upon 
the  silken  costume  of  the  kneeling  figure,  and  upon  the 
frieze  habit  of  the  gaunt  monk,  is  expressed  with  re- 
markable subtlety,  yet  in  the  simplest  manner  by  more 
or  less  parallel  lines  of  varying  thickness  taking  gener- 
ally the  direction  of  the  form.  The  thicknesses  of  these 
lines  and  their  proportion  to  the  white  space  between 


140 


SANDYS  AND  BOYD  HOUGHTON 
them  shows  how  valuable  the  slightest  difference  can 
be  made  if  used  with  economy.  The  upper  surface  of 
the  steps  is  quite  light  in  the  moon,  and  yet  their  near 
edge  is  determined  with  vivid  emphasis  by  the  very 
slight  additional  space  of  light  upon  it  dividing  the 


No.  62.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 


upper  surface  with  its  tone  of  parallel  lines  from  the 
darker  cross  hatched  surface  below.  The  varying 
direction  of  this  cross  hatching  upon  the  stone  is  used 
not  only  to  express  gloom,  but  these  lines  being  kept 
fairly  open  and  vigorous,  display  and  do  not  conceal 
their  relative  direction,  and  so  suggest  the  surface  of 
the  stone  itself.  The  shadow  of  the  porch  falls  upon 
the  standing  figure  as  a band  of  solid  black  ; but  the 
gloom  behind  him  is  a relieved  gloom,  not  a solid,  but 
an  intangible  space  into  which  could  be  reached  an 
unobstructed  hand.  In  the  rich  shadow  behind  the 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
kneeling  figure  the  lines  are  practically  at  right  angles, 
very  close  together,  and  fairly  thick,  so  that  the  squares 
of  white  are  very  small.  The  differentiation  between 
the  solid  stonework  in  semi-darkness  and  the  gloom 
of  the  shadows  is  so  simply  managed  that  its  subtlety 
might  be  overlooked,  and  will,  perhaps,  only  be  fully 
appreciated  by  a line  draughtsman.  It  is  difficult  in 


No.  63.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 


Boyd  Houghton’s  work  to  trace  any  influence  of  any 
kind,  except  that  of  the  impact  of  life,  which,  as  an 
artist,  he  passed  on  through  the  medium  of  whatever 
job  came  his  way  as  an  illustrator.  The  world  to  him 
seems  to  have  been  a round  world  with  fat  and  jolly 
men  in  it,  and  women  who,  for  all  their  grace,  were 
solid  and  real,  not  anaemic  outlines  of  angels.  When 
they  walked  they  trod  upon  the  ground,  like  Shake- 
speare’s mistress.  He  was  untroubled  (or  showed  no 
trouble)  by  any  hampering  theory  of  style  such  as  in 
one  direction  enlarged,  and  in  another  cramped,  the 
work  of  Sandys  ; and  was  ready  at  all  times  to  vary 

142 


SANDYS  AND  BOYD  HOUGHTON 
his  methods  according  to  the  matter  in  hand,  and  to 
restrain  himself  or  let  himself  go  according  to  his 
humour.  Yet  a Houghton  is  always  immediately  recog- 
nizable through  all  his  variations  by  a large  handsome- 
ness of  design  ; a voluptuousness  of  sweeping  curve — 


No.  64.  Menzel  (p.  440).  Frederick  the  Great. 


a love  of  the  unexpected  and  odd  in  line,  character  and 
place — running  often  enough  to  the  fantastic  and  con- 
torted even  in  real  life,  as  in  the  American  series,  and 
such  drawings  as  he  made  direct  from  his  own  unfiltered 
London  experience.  The  emphasis  he  brings  to  bear 
is  not  primarily  upon  the  changing  aspect  of  things,  as 
was  Charles  Keene’s,  but  upon  salient  points  of  signifi- 
cance and  solid  form  in  a condition  of  significant 

143 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTARTION 
action  which  made  a natural  rhythm.  Things  were 
things — they  were  outside  him  at  this  or  that  distance 
in  relation  to  one  another  in  light  and  shade — and  his 
vision  is  convincingly  true  in  spite  of  the  individual 
manner  in  which  he  presents  it. 

He  appears  to  have  loved  children,  and  he  illustrated 
a whole  book  full  of  them  on  which,  while  not  his 
greatest  artistic  performance,  he  lavished  more  care 
than  upon  any  other.  He  does  not  sentimentalize  or 
idealize  them  : he  loved  their  fat  little  legs,  and  observed 
their  ways  as  they  were,  with  an  almost  maternal 
tenderness  and  amusement.  They  have  not  the  appear- 
ance of  having  been  made  up  from  “ chic.”  The  draw- 
ings are  less  direct,  more  elaborate  and  “ finished  ” in 
technique,  and  fuller  in  tone  than  is  usual  with  him, 
so  that  the  subject  is  sometimes  overlaid  by  general 
statement,  but  it  is  there  underneath. 

He  was  a great  artist  out  of  simplicity  of  heart,  being 
by  all  accounts  a great  boy,  who  had  his  own  tumbles 
and  scrapes  arising  from  a boisterous  love  of  life  and 
living.  Perhaps  his  love  of  life  predominating  over  his 
love  of  Art  made  his  art  finer  than  if  the  proportions 
had  been  reversed. 


144 


CHAPTER  XIX 


BLAKE 

IT  has  been  said  of  Blake  that  he  attempted  the  im- 
possible and  nearly  succeeded.  It  is  when  he  comes 
nearest  to  attempting  the  realization  of  living  charac- 
ter that  he  breaks  down  most  severely.  His  written  defence 
of  his  plate  for  Chaucer’s  “ Canterbury  Pilgrims  ” is  a 
document  of  far  greater  interest  and  value  as  a clue  to 
the  mind  of  Blake  than  is  the  plate  itself,  the  presenta- 
tion of  living  types  of  character  not  in  fact  being  within 
his  scope,  though  he  had  all  a literary  man’s  reasoned 
sense  of  it.  Here  are  not  the  “ physiognomies  or  linea- 
ments of  universal  human  life  beyond  which  Nature 
never  stept,”  nor  are  “ the  horses  varied  according  to 
their  Riders,”  and  the  porch  of  the  Tabard  Inn  is  of 
curiously  feeble  design,  considering  that  Blake  had 
spent  some  years  making  drawings  of  the  monuments 
and  buildings  of  Westminster  Abbey  and  various  old 
churches  in  and  near  London  for  Basire,  when  he  was 
an  apprentice,  “ a circumstance  he  always  mentioned 
with  gratitude  to  Basire.”  He  had  not  only  no  interest 
in  the  solid  external  things  among  which  he  lived  and 
moved,  but  he  repudiated  such  interest,  and  it  would 
be  hard  to  find  an  object  in  the  whole  bulk  of  his  work 
represented  as  it  appeared  to  him.  With  the  exception  of 
the  series  of  wood  cuts  to  Virgil  in  1820  towards  the  end 
of  his  life,  the  nearest  approach  to  such  representation 
is  probably  the  “ Stonehenge  ” in  the  “ Jerusalem,” 

145 


L 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
but  here  the  forms  are  so  simple  that  it  hardly 
counts.  In  one  of  the  “ Songs  of  Experience  ” (No.  ii 
in  Gilchrist)  there  is  something  approaching  a sugges- 
tion of  the  rough  bark  of  a tree,  and  a delightfully  comic 


No.  65.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 
Menzel  had  no  mercy  on  his  engravers. 


lion  at  its  foot.  More  in  fact  than  Fuseli  did  Nature 
(external  Nature,  that  is)  “ put  him  out.”  He  saw  the 
Dryad  and  not  the  oak.  The  spirit  within  and  not  the 
husk  which  hid  it  was  what  he  really  saw  if  he  looked 

146 


BLAKE 

outwards  at  all,  as  he  seldom  did.  He  loved  form,  not 
for  its  own  sake,  but  for  its  significance — for  the  idea 
it  embodied.  Colour,  too,  with  him  was  in  a like  sense 
illustrative.  “ That  is  not  either  colouring,  graving  or 
verse,  which  is  inappropriate  to  the  subject.  He  who 
makes  a design  must  know  the  effect  and  colouring 
proper  to  put  to  that  design,  and  will  never  take  that  of 
Rubens,  Rembrandt  or  Titian  to  turn  that  which  is 
soul  and  life  into  a mill  or  machine  ” (Gilchrist,  169,  2). 
“ Men  think  that  they  can  copy  nature  as  correctly  as 
I copy  imagination.  This  they  will  find  impossible,  and 
all  the  copies  or  pretended  copies  of  nature  from  Rem- 
brandt to  Reynolds  prove  that  nature  becomes  to  its 
victim  nothing  but  blots  and  blurs.  Why  are  copies 
of  nature  incorrect,  while  copies  of  imagination  are 
correct  ? This  is  manifest  to  all.  The  English  artist  may 
be  as  assured  that  he  is  doing  an  injury  and  injustice  to 
his  country  while  he  studies  and  imitates  the  effects  of 
nature.  England  will  never  rival  Italy  while  we  servilely 
copy  what  the  wise  Italians,  Raphael  and  Michael 
Angelo,  scorned,  nay,  abhorred,  as  Vasari  tells  us. 
What  kind  of  intellect  must  he  have  who  sees  only  the 
colours  of  things,  and  not  the  forms  of  things  ? No 
man  of  sense  can  think  that  an  imitation  of  the  objects 
of  nature  is  the  art  of  painting,  or  that  such  imitation 
(which  anyone  may  easily  perform)  is  worthy  of  notice, 
much  less  that  such  an  art  should  be  the  glory  and  pride 
of  a nation.  A jockey  that  is  anything  of  a jockey  will 
never  buy  a horse  by  the  colour  ; and  a man  who  has 
got  any  brains  will  never  buy  a picture  by  the  colour  ” 
(Gilchrist  II,  172-3). 


147 


CHAPTER  XX 


MILLAIS  AND  THE  ILLUSTRATION  OF 

VERSE 

IF  the  drawing  is  as  fine  as  can  be  in  its  appeal  to 
the  aesthetic  faculties,  it  stands  to  reason  that  the 
pleasure  taken  in  it  will  be  still  greater  if  it  intrigues 
other  faculties  of  the  mind  in  addition,  but  its  primary- 
appeal  must  always  be  to  the  aesthetic  sense.  This,  how- 
ever, being  satisfied,  the  more  fully  charged  the  drawing 
with  interest  the  better.  Much  that  is  written  in  the 
criticisms  of  poetry  is  equally  applicable  to  the  study  of 
art  in  line.  Certain  verse  forms  lend  themselves  to  a 
condensation  of  thought  and  a closeness  of  packing  that 
might  be  compared  to  a telegraphic  style  of  writing, 
where  every  superfluous  word  is  omitted  and  each  one 
that  is  put  in  is  weighed  as  though  it  had  a money  value  ; 
yet  there  are  others  where  the  gallop  of  the  rhythm 
might  be  checked  if  the  line  were  overcharged  with 
meaning.  The  condensation  of  thought  in  a Shake- 
sperean  sonnet  would  ill  accord  with  Swinburne’s 
anapaestic  style.  Equally  the  close  packing  of  Diirer’s 
angular  and  charactered  method  would  ill  accord  with 
the  melodic  rhythm  of  Beardsley.  One  is  a weight 
carrier,  the  other  for  speed,  and  the  choice  of  a style 
should  be  made  in  accordance  with  the  object  in  view. 

While  an  illustrator  may  be  moved  by  a fine  line  of 
verse,  not  only  an  image,  he  has  no  means  of  matching 
it  by  the  content  of  his  drawing,  but  only  by  some 

148 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 

intensity  of  vision  and  quality  of  expression  in  line 
that  if  it  could  be  defined  instead  of  only  described 
would  make  pictorial  art  a superfluity  : 

“ Here,  oh,  here  will  I set  up  my  everlasting  rest. 

And  shake  the  yoke  of  unauspicious  stars 

From  this  world  wearied  flesh — eyes,  look  your  last. 

Arms  take  your  last  embrace — ” 

Here  he  fails — he  has  cold  and  pathetic  beauty,  and 
living  beauty  in  dramatic  and  passionate  relation,  but 
all  the  rest — “ Out  of  me — out  of  me  ! ” is  all  that  he 
can  say.  It  is  not  that  the  artist  is  less  moved  by  these 
most  moving  of  all  words,  but  that — being  so  moved 
he  realizes  that  the  movement  and  the  pathos  belong 
to  words  read  or  spoken  and  not  to  lines,  masses  or 
surfaces  drawn  or  painted.  It  is  necessary  to  make  a 
sharp  contrast  between  the  functions  of  literature  and 
pictorial  art.  What  picture  can  match  : 

“ O Absolom,  my  son,  my  son  ! ” 

It  requires  for  its  literary  effect  the  progress  of  a 
lengthy  precedent  narrative,  and  the  dry  habit  of  state- 
ment into  which,  when  the  ear  is  accustomed  to  the 
bald  statement  of  facts,  there  falls  this  sudden  ejacu- 
lation of  inarticulate  grief — too  full  for  words  to  bear 
— and  we  get  nothing  but  a sob.  Music,  perhaps,  but 
not  the  art  of  the  illustrator  may  match  it.  Dramatic 
gesture  is  untrue — a broken  heart  is  not  expressed  by 
gesticulating  hands,  extended  fingers  and  protruding 
eyes.  The  illustrator  will  be  well  advised  to  seek  his 
subjects  elsewhere,  unless  he  is  anxious  to  show  up 
the  limitation  of  his  craft. 


149 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
The  mind  may  be  struck,  in  reading  poetry,  by  a 
vivid  image  or  a cadence  in  certain  words  so  forcibly 
as  to  be  moved  to  attempt  a material  illustration  of  the 
words  or  image  in  the  hope  that  thereby  the  magic  of 
the  poem  may  be  communicated  to  the  drawing.  Take 
the  first  verse  of  Omar  Khayyam  : 

“ Awake  ! for  Morning  in  the  Bowl  of  Night 
Has  flung  the  Stone  that  puts  the  Stars  to  Flight  ; 
And  Lo  ! the  Hunter  of  the  East  has  caught 
The  Sultan’s  Turret  in  a Noose  of  Light.” 

It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a verse  more  tempting, 
as  it  supplies  two  obvious  images  to  choose  from,  the 
flinging  of  the  stone  and  the  hunter’s  noose  ; and  yet, 
while  vivid  and  lucid  in  their  effect  upon  the  mind  in 
the  reading,  the  symbols  would  be  most  likely  to  appear 
in  a drawing  either  confusing  or  prosaic,  and  so  miss 
the  point  and  fail  of  all  the  magic. 

To  take  another  instance  : 

“ The  Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes — or  it  prospers  ; and  anon 
Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert’s  dusty  Face 
Lighting  a little  Hour  or  two — is  gone.” 

What  could  be  clearer  or  more  concrete  ? There  is  a 
symbol  ready  made  for  Hope — Suppose  then  we  start 
off  with  an  Anchor.  What  next  ? The  Anchor  has  to 
turn  into  Ashes  or  to  prosper  : and  anon  ? — no,  an 
Anchor  cannot  fall  like  snow  : the  anchor  must  be 
given  up. 

Hope — Worldly  Hope — Faith,  Hope,  Charity  : how 
do  we  represent  these  ? As  fairy  ladies  in  Greek  gowns  ? 

150 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 

Again  the  trouble  about  the  Ashes.  The  mind  turns 
towards  cremation  at  once — and  the  scattering  of  the 
ashes  on  the  Desert — the  possible  Prosperity  of  the 
lady  is  left  out  of  account.  Let  us  try  again  : further 
along  “ set  their  Hearts  ” — Darts,  naturally — “ Snow 


No.  66.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 

It  is  difficult  to  get  modern  process  engravers  to  match  these  slaves  of 
the  burin  in  a Menzel. 

Upon  the  Dusty  Face  ” — suggests  a frosted  picture 
like  a Christmas  card — a picture  that  leaves  out  the 
movement,  the  change,  that  it  is  the  object  of  the  verse 
to  bring  home,  and  does  nothing  but  tack  a fringe  upon 
the  subject.  “ Men  set  their  Hearts  upon — ”.  What  ? 
Something  that  shall  hold  in  it  the  seeds  of  prosperity 
and  of  ruin — Chance  ; Change  ; The  Wheel  of  For- 
tune— the  turn  of  a card — the  fall  of  the  dice.  And  so 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
we  sift  out  and  choose  some  symbol,  probably  not 
actually  mentioned,  through  which  the  whole  and  not 
the  partial  meaning  of  the  verse  may  be  graphically 
brought  out. 

It  is  generally  in  the  illustration  of  poetical  work 
that  such  difficulties  are  to  be  encountered  ; where 
the  facts  used  stand  not  only  as  facts,  but  where  every- 
thing is  made  to  bear  some  burden  of  meaning  outside 
itself.  This  should  never  be  used  as  an  excuse  for 
slovenliness  of  technique  or  composition,  on  the  plea 
that  it  is  the  idea  to  be  conveyed  and  not  the  manner  of 
its  conveyance  that  is  the  important  matter.  The  finer 
the  idea  the  more  dignified  should  be  the  rendering  of 
it  ; and  the  setting  out  of  abstractions  in  concrete 
form  often  calls  for  a more  intense  realism  and  pressure 
of  interest  in  the  facts  presented,  than  is  necessary  for 
the  illustration  of  the  ordinary  “ matter  of  fact  ” prose. 
It  may  almost  be  laid  down  as  a rule  that  the  illustra- 
tion of  poetry  will  call  for  a greater  degree  of  particu- 
larization than  will  prose.  A general  statement  may  be 
made  in  prose  ; but  in  poetry  all  must  be  as  vivid  and 
sharp  as  though  seen  by  lightning — without  hesita- 
tion and  alternatives — not  vaguely  suggestive,  except 
perhaps  in  cumulative  effect,  and  this  holds  equally  of 
the  illustration  of  it.  There  must  be  no  timidity  in  the 
grasp  of  the  facts  of  the  imagination,  but  dragons, 
Titans,  fairies,  gods  and  devils,  must  be  drawn  with 
even  more  precision  and  conviction  than  the  portrait 
of  “ the  man  in  the  street  ” — or  failure  is  inevitable. 
The  more  far-fetched  the  image  the  more  precise  it 
should  be  in  the  presentation. 

Witness  the  Apocalypse,  where,  while  the  Revelation 

152 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 
is  debatable,  every  image  is  as  clear  as  daylight,  no 
matter  how  vague  its  significance  ; and  let  us  see  how 
Albrecht  Diirer  dealt  with  it.  Here  is  no  fumbling, 
slipping  and  feeling  about  blindfold  or  in  a mist,  but 
a tread  sure  as  upon  a rock.  The  line  is  laid  down  with 


No.  67.  Menzel.  Frederick  the  Great. 

a firmness  that  to  some  is  almost  repellent.  The  state- 
ment is  as  bald  and  dry  as  a statement  of  account. 

Lucidity  a mark  of  imagination 

The  lack  of  clarity  which  is  thought  by  some  to  be  a 
mark  of  the  imagination  is  the  mark  not  of  imagination 
but  of  wool-gathering — to  envelop  a symbol  in  a fog 
is  like  stirring  up  a shallow  puddle  in  order  to  conceal 
its  shallowness.  A cartoon  in  tone  is  an  abomination. 


153 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
The  treatment  of  an  idea  is  as  important  as  the  idea 
itself.  There  may  be  two  opinions  upon  any  subject, 
and  either  opinion  may  be  nobly  or  meanly  held  : a 
man  may  be  accidentally  and  meanly  right,  where 


No.  68.  Menzel.  From  a proof  in  the  Print  Room,  British  Museum. 
A wonderful  facsimile  wood  engraving. 


another  is  quite  nobly  wrong — the  manner  of  state- 
ment of  what  is  held  as  Truth  is  the  measure  by  which 
the  artist  is  judged.  The  vision  may  be  partial  and  the 
technique  may  be  faulty,  but  conviction,  even  a narrow 
one,  may  atone.  Quiet  statement  may  be  even  more  of 
a passport  to  acceptance  than  vehemence.  So  that  it  is 

154 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 
well  that  Michael  Angelo  was  restrained  by  the  intract- 
ability of  marble,  and  that  Blake  had  his  apprenticeship 
as  an  engraver  of  works  of  despicable  inferiority  to  his 
own,  otherwise  these  overflowing  and  impatient  minds, 
unschooled  by  the  stern  discipline  of  craftsmanship, 
might  have  been  poured  out  in  too  chaotic  a splutter 
for  comprehension  instead  of  in  a clear  stream.  A great 
deal  of  Blake’s  work  was  poured  out  in  this  way  with  the 
result  that  to  this  day  many  people  believe  that  he  was 
a madman.  Without  these  objective  difficulties  to  give 
pause  to  the  rapid  utterance  the  result  might  have  been 
not  only  a partial  but  an  entire  torrential  jumble  in 
which  fact  and  fancy,  idea  and  symbol  tangled  to- 
gether in  inextricable  confusion.  Ideation  was  in  excess, 
but  in  order  to  get  itself  expressed,  happily  for  us,  this 
appears  to  have  lent  an  executive  fury  to  both  artists. 
Albrecht  Diirer  was  more  happily  constituted,  being 
weighed  down  with  a leadweight  of  Teutonic  ballast, 
like  a yacht  which  could  not  carry  so  much  sail  without 
a heavy  counterpoise.  His  ideas  are  never  in  excess  of 
his  craftsmanship,  but  are  part  of  it,  while  Blake,  who 
was  persistent,  but  not  patient,  ran  and  stumbled 
where  Diirer  walked  warily  and  secure. 

Interest  in  series  of  drawings 

Everyone  must  have  thought  at  times  what  a pity  it 
is  that  two  personalities  could  not  be  rolled  into  one — 
in  fact,  that  qualities  had  not  their  defects.  But  such 
minds  as  Blake,  not  primarily  craftsmen,  but  poets 
expressing  themselves  in  form,  must  be  judged  not  by 
a single  masterpiece,  as  many  artists  can  be,  but  by 
their  work  as  a whole,  which  is  a cumulative  expression 

155 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
of  their  thought,  with  a beat  and  rhythm  throbbing 
through  the  whole  of  it  as  through  a poem  or  melody. 
This  is  best  seen  in  the  case  of  a series  of  drawings  like 
the  illustrations  to  Job,  where  there  is  a quite  legitimate 
reference  of  one  design  to  another;  there  is  progres- 
sion as  in  a work  of  literature,  where  the  end  is  the 
corollary  of  the  beginning.  The  first  drawing  shows 
Job  sitting  with  his  wife,  his  sons  and  daughters, 
kneeling  under  a tree  in  whose  branches  hang  all  sorts 
of  musical  instruments.  The  sun  rises  on  the  left,  and 
the  moon  is  in  the  last  quarter  upon  the  right.  In  the 
last  picture  the  sun  and  moon  are  reversed  ; and  Job 
and  all  his  family  are  again  gathered  together  beneath 
the  tree,  but  they  are  standing — the  instruments  are 
taken  down  and  all  are  being  played  in  an  orchestra  of 
happy  praise.  The  effect  of  repetition  with  variation, 
playing  as  it  does  on  the  memory  by  its  allusion  to  the 
opening,  adds  an  extrinsic  charm  to  the  drawing,  which 
is  then  to  be  judged  as  following  on  something  already 
seen,  not  as  a unit  but  like  a chapter  in  a book.  A purist 
may  say  that  such  cumulative  effect  is  improper  to 
pictorial  art,  and  yet  all  art  that  contains  rhythm  con- 
tains reference  backwards  or  forwards,  even  though 
its  development  be  interrupted  from  time  to  time  ; in 
this  case  as  though  the  rhythm  were  extended  beyond 
the  frame  of  one  picture  into  the  next,  making  one 
scheme.  In  book  illustration  the  interest  of  one  draw- 
ing is  frequently  greatly  enhanced  by  its  reference  to 
another  of  the  series,  though  the  actual  quality  of  the 
craftsmanship  is  unaltered  thereby  and  each  drawing 
must  stand  upon  its  own  merits  as  a drawing.  Indiff- 
erence to  this  extrinsic  interest  in  the  artist  is  a frequent 

156 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 
source  of  irritation  to  the  spectator,  who  naturally 
expects  to  see  the  same  character  consistently  displayed 
throughout  a story,  so  that  if  Don  Quixote  at  the  end 


No.  69.  Millais.  From  the  Moxon  “Tennyson,”  1857. 

Facsimile  wood  engraving. 

of  the  book  has  a shorter  nose  than  he  has  in  the  front- 
ispiece, although  each  drawing  may  be  of  equal  merit 
and  interest,  the  reader  imputes  blame  to  the  illus- 
trator for  disturbing  that  unity  of  impression  it  is  his 
business  to  make.  This  may  happen  easily  enough,  but 
the  illustrator  should  make  it  his  business  to  establish 


157 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
his  types  firmly  to  begin  with,  so  that  he  may  stick 
consistently  to  them  throughout  the  series  and  make 
the  drawings  proceed  step  by  step  with  the  text.  It  is 
good  to  have  well  marked  differences  of  character,  as 
of  height,  stout  or  lean,  style  of  dress,  dark  or  fair, 
young  and  old,  clean  shaven  and  bearded,  where  such 
are  appropriate,  as  the  drawing  will  have  more  variety 
of  interest,  and  “ read  ” more  readily,  and  give  effect 
to  those  more  subtle  differentiations  of  character  which 
otherwise  might  not  have  their  full  value. 

Although  any  work  that  contains  a concrete  idea  or 
fact  is  capable  of  illustration,  there  are  pitfalls  for  the 
unwary  who  should  undertake  certain  tasks  without 
due  forethought.  Particularly  is  this  the  case  with  the 
illustration  of  poetry,  where  not  only  the  facts  are  to 
be  represented,  but,  if  possible,  the  poet’s  exaltation. 
Take  Tennyson’s  “ Maud,”  where  the  characteristic 
magic  of  the  poem  would  be  in  danger  of  evaporation 
as  soon  as  the  dramatis  personce  were  bodied  forth  to 
the  eye  in  the  costume  of  the  period  ; and  the  draw- 
ings might  more  easily  than  not  convey  nothing  more 
than  the  illustrations  of  a melodramatic  novel,  since 

Maud  ” is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a novel,  where 
the  narrative  is  indicated  in  a series  of  lyrical  outbursts. 
The  novel  might  be  emphasized  and  the  lyricism  ex- 
pelled, the  husk  alone  remaining.  “In  Memoriam” 
presents  even  greater  difficulties.  Passion  would  have 
to  be  implicit  in  the  technique  of  the  illustrator — 
Millais  as  a young  Pre-Raphaelite  might  have  achieved 
the  task,  though  it  is  easy  to  see  how  he  was  worried 
by  some  of  the  verses  he  undertook  in  the  Moxon 
Tennyson,  where  he  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile 

158 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 

modernity  of  character  and  costume  with  his  concep- 
tion of  dignity  of  presentation.  Where  there  is  dis- 
crepancy between  the  style  and  the  thing  to  be  ex- 
pressed, a few  of  the  drawings  fall  little,  if  at  all, 
short  of  the  comic.  Romantic  exaltation  is  easy  for  a 


No.  70.  Millais.  From  the  Moxon  “Tennyson,”  1857. 


knight  in  armour,  but  to  express  it  clad  in  a frock  coat 
and  trousers  is  another  matter.  Millais,  though  young, 
was  by  no  means  immature  when  judged  by  his  extra- 
ordinary achievement  in  other  cases  in  this  volume, 
where  he  found  subjects  more  congenial  to  his  stricter 
style  of  treatment  ; and  he  succeeded  exquisitely 
when  he  abandoned  this  stringency  for  a more  tender 
and  less  ambitious  manner  in  his  drawing  to  “ Edward 

159 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
Grey  ” ; a simple  tale  where  such  treatment  was 
warranted  by  the  verse.  This  drawing  does  not  nullify 
but  bears  out  what  has  been  said  in  relation  to  “ Maud” 
and  “ In  Memoriam,”  for  the  drawing  might  well 
stand  among  Millais’  later  and  better  known  illustra- 
tions to  the  novels  of  Anthony  Trollope,  many  or  most 
of  which,  in  spite  of  their  popularity,  this  drawing 
surpasses  in  artistic  and  delicately  dramatic  quality, 
even  after  a certain  thinness  of  effect  is  allowed  for. 

Later,  in  full  maturity,  when  he  came  to  the  illustra- 
tion of  the  Parables,  we  find  how  triumphantly  his 
passion  carried  him  to  the  creation  of  a number  of 
masterpieces  ; but  how,  this  failing  him,  and  in  spite 
of  obvious  effort  and  laboriousness,  his  heart  being 
no  longer  in  it,  the  interpretation  becomes  perfunctory. 
It  may  be  that  only  youth  can  maintain  the  stress  of 
such  intensity  except  at  ever  increasing  intervals  ; and 
that,  with  its  passage,  less  exacting  forms  of  expression 
are  instinctively  felt  out  for.  As  he  grew  older  his  work 
declined  in  artistic  intensity,  though  as  it  lost  its  poetry 
and  became  more  prosaic  it  increased  in  popularity. 
Perhaps  on  account  of  the  greater  familiarity  of  the 
subjects  taken  and  the  effort  needed  to  carry  them 
through  “ well  enough  ” for  their  ephemeral  purpose 
being  less  exacting,  he  succeeded  well,  where  he  failed 
in  his  more  ambitious  work  of  the  same  period.  But 
these  successes  were  on  a lower  plane  of  aim  and  achieve- 
ment ; the  composition  is  never  so  close  knit  ; physical 
energy  of  production  takes  the  place  of  mental,  even 
though  this  had  been  hesitant,  and  so  these  products 
are  less  interesting  to  the  student  than  early  comparative 
failures. 


i6o 


MILLAIS  AND  ILLUSTRATION  OF  VERSE 

In  looking  at  the  early  drawings  by  all  the  Pre- 
Raphaelites  in  the  Moxon  Tennyson,  it  is  difficult, 
for  a modern  student,  accustomed  to  process  repro- 
duction, to  realize  in  face  of  their  minuteness  that  he 
is  looking  at  a print  from  the  actual  surface  drawn 
upon  by  the  hand  of  the  artist,  and  that  consequently 
no  reduction  has  taken  place. 

The  “ Edward  Grey  ” drawing  measures  no  more 
than  3^  wide  by  3I  high,  yet  in  the  “ Collected  Illus- 
trations ” of  Millais  it  is  not  overpowered  by  the  blank 
margin  of  a page  of  qf  by  izf.  More  wonder- 
ful is  it  that  so  elaborate  a composition  as  “ The 
Revival  ” and  “ The  Sleeping  Palace  ” should  measure 
but  3I  wide  and  3^  high,  with  all  their  amount  of 
precise  and  detailed  drawing.  No  painted  composition 
by  Millais  had  more  care  put  into  it  than  these  tiny 
drawings,  which  yet  maintain  an  unentangled  sim- 
plicity of  effect — “ reading  ” without  difficulty  or 
magnifying  glass  to  the  most  elderly  eye.  Rossetti  is 
sometimes  involved  and  “ precious  ” in  comparison, 
but  in  his  case  the  block  is  handled  as  though  it  were 
the  gold  on  which  the  early  engravers  learned  their 
trade  rather  than  a few  square  inches  of  wood. 


161 


lU 


CHAPTER  XXI 


DORE  AND  SCALE 

An  important  matter  to  consider  in  a composi- 
tion is  the  relative  scale  of  the  figures  to  their 
surroundings,  so  that  there  is  no  conflict  of 
interest  between  them.  If  it  is  desired  to  represent  facial 
character  and  expression  it  will  be  necessary  to  take  a 
fairly  close  view  of  the  figures,  which  will  then  naturally 
be  made  to  dominate  their  surroundings  ; but  if  they  are 
so  placed  that  the  emphasis  of  the  composition  falls  so 
evenly  that  a doubt  might  be  felt  as  to  where  lay  the 
primary  interest  of  the  designer,  it  will  be  well  to 
suppress  them  still  further,  that  they  may  appear  sub- 
ordinate at  least  to  their  surroundings,  and  depending 
for  their  dramatic  effect  largely  upon  silhouette.  In- 
terest should  never  be  half-heartedly  distributed. 
Dore’s  illustrations  to  Balzac’s  “ Contes  Drolatiques  ” 
are  remarkable  in  this  particular.  He  appears  to  have 
had  a natural  eye  for  scale,  and  bases  many  of  his 
happiest  effects  upon  it.  On  a full-page  block  of  3! 
base  and  5I  high,  he  can  so  manage  scale  as  to  give  a 
sense  of  perfectly  stupendous  height  and  massiveness 
to  buildings,  mountains,  etc.  He  piles  Pelion  on  Ossa 
with  the  utmost  ease  (see  for  example  p.  119,  p.  123, 
and  elsewhere). 

In  the  “ Table  des  Dessins  ” there  is  a wonderful 
series  of  thirty  little  drawings  to  the  titles  of  the  different 
stories.  It  is  almost  miraculous  the  amount  of  dramatic 

162 


dore  and  scale 

effect  he  has  obtained,  for  he  will  give  a dancing  crowd 
in  fantastic  silhouette,  a procession  of  beggars  in  a 
spacious  landscape,  an  ambuscade  of  cross-bowmen 
with  their  victim,  and  over  a score  of  other  fancies 


No.  71.  Millais.  From  the  Moxon  “Tennyson,”  1857. 


appealing  directly  to  the  eye  without  the  eye  having  to 
seek  them  out  in  a space  frequently  no  more  than  3I 
by  I,  and  sometimes  less. 

One  drawing  is  amusing  as  it  contains  a curious 
little  problem  in  addition  to  the  subject  of  it.  It  is  3 A 
wide,  by  f high  ; but  it  represents  three  sides  of  the 
quadrangle  of  a monastery,  with  a tearing  carmagnole 
of  monks  on  the  centre.  There  are  innumerable 
\vindows  drawn  in  ; but  whether  he  got  tired  of 

163 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
putting  them  in  himself  and  desired  to  leave  it  to  the 
engraver  to  carry  on  after  he  had  indicated  about 
three-quarters  of  them  and  just  wrote  “ etc.”  to  direct 
him  ; whether  the  engraver  was  too  stupid  to  take  the 
hint  or  was  witty  enough  to  think  he  would  “ show 
up  ” the  artist’s  indolence,  is  uncertain  ; but  he  has 
been  at  pains  to  engrave  the  “ etc,”  instead  of  filling 
in  the  windows,  which  would  have  been  the  easier  task. 
This  “ etc.”  is  in  reverse,  which  rather  points  to  its 
having  been  bona-fide  an  instruction  to  the  engraver, 
and  that  the  engraver  took  it  simply  as  in  the  day’s 
work. 

An  example  of  an  early  ''process  ” used  hy  Dore 

Though  nearly  all  the  drawings  in  this  volume  are 
engraved  on  wood,  and  very  sympathetically  inter- 
preted, considerable  artistic  ability  beyond  mere  accur- 
acy being  frequently  called  for,  there  are  one  or  two 
examples  where  an  apparently  autographic  process 
has  been  used  by  Dore. 

At  page  91  will  be  found  “ L’Advocat  Feron,”  which 
is  probably  printed  from  a stereotype  or  electrotype 
from  a drawing  scratched  through  a ground  of  suffi- 
cient body  upon  a metal  plate  to  yield  relief  to  the  cast 
taken  from  it.  It  is  signed  G.  Dore,  in  both  of  the 
bottom  corners,  as  though  the  artist  had  worked  twice 
upon  the  plate,  and  one  signature  may  have  been 
obscured  ; and  in  the  middle,  between  the  two  signa- 
tures, is  “ Precede  Piaud.”  From  the  fineness  of  a great 
number  of  the  lines  there  is  little  doubt  that  it  is  printed 
from  a metal  block.  It  shares  many  of  the  character- 
istics of  a pen  drawing  and  of  an  etching  combined, 

164 


DORE  AND  SCALE 

which  would  arise  from  the  use  of  an  etching  needle, 
varied  with  a chisel-edged  instrument  ; the  spaces  of 
solid  black  having  the  appearance  of  being  scraped 
with  a penknife.  There  are  traces  of  the  block  printing 
up  here  and  there  between  the  lines,  this  pointing  to  its 


No.  72.  Millais.  “ Edward  Grey.” 
From  the  Moxon  “Tennyson,”  1857. 


being  shallow  in  the  intricate  parts.  There  is  no  indi- 
cation of  this  in  the  more  open  spaces  ; but  it  would 
be  easy  for  a wood-engraver  to  run  over  the  block  and 
deepen  these  places  where  printing  up  was  most  likely 
to  happen.  If  this  conjecture  as  to  the  method  used  is 
correct,  the  process  was  one  similar  to  one  tested  by 
the  writer  about  1890,  which  was  intended  for  rapid 

165 


THE  ARl’  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
reproduction  by  means  of  stereotyping  alone  without 
the  aid  of  photography.  The  plate  was  coated  heavily 
with  a white,  chalky  preparation  of  considerable  thick- 
ness, through  which  the  artist  scratched,  blowing  away 
the  ploughed  out  chalk,  which  interfered  with  his  view 
of  the  work  done.  The  difficulties  presented  to  the 
artist  by  this  method  lost  what  time  was  saved  in  re- 
production, so  that  the  advantages  were  outweighed 
by  the  disadvantages,  and  it  was  not  used.  The  history 
of  the  Piaud  process  may  have  been  similar.  Dore  was 
an  impatient  technician,  and  in  spite  of  the  interest  of 
this  particular  result,  he  probably  found  the  method 
irksome,  preferring  that  trouble  should  be  taken  by 
the  wood-engraver,  so  long  as  he  himself  was  spared. 

In  the  later  process  it  was  not  only  a question  of 
eliminating  the  costly  labour  of  the  wood-engraver  and 
giving  a more  autographic  result,  but  of  hampering  the 
artist  in  his  means  of  expression,  to  save  the  time  of 
the  photographer,  which  was  worth  less  ; and  as  the 
work  had  to  be  done  the  exact  size  of  the  proposed 
print,  elaborate  detail,  easy  enough  on  a larger  scale 
than  the  reproduction,  was  rendered  difficult  or  im- 
possible where  no  reduction  could  take  place. 

A method  of  enlarging  and  reducing,  and  “ The  India- 
rubber  Artist  ” 

So  late  as  i860  some  excitement  seems  to  have  been 
caused  by  a mechanical  means  of  enlarging  and  re- 
ducing drawings  by  producing  them  in  lithographic 
ink  on  a sheet  of  vulcanized  rubber,  which  was  then 
either  stretched  or  relaxed  to  the  required  scale.  It 
was  thought  that  this  would  be  of  great  use,  not  only 

166 


DORE  AND  SCALE 


No.  73.  Millais.  From  “Poets  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.” 

for  artistic  purposes,  but  for  the  production  of  ordnance 
maps,  Bibles,  and  so  on,  once  drawn  or  set  up. 
Surprisingly  accurate  results  were  obtained  by 
the  “ Electro-Printing-Block  Company,”  presumably 

167 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
formed  to  work  the  patent,  which,  of  course,  must 
shortly  have  been  displaced  by  photographic  methods. 
In  Once  a Week  for  August  25th,  i860,  in  an  article 
headed  “ The  India-Rubber  Artist,”  we  read  : “ We 
may  have  the  earliest  folio  copies  of  Shakespeare’s 
plays  reproduced  with  exactness  in  more  available 
sizes  through  the  medium  of  a few  sheets  of  India- 
rubber.  It  seems  only  the  other  day  since  this  extra- 
ordinary substance  performed  the  solitary  duty  of 
rubbing  out  pencil  marks  ; now  it  bids  fair  to  revolu- 
tionize one  branch  of  the  Fine  Arts,  and  to  add  very 
largely  to  the  sum  of  enjoyment  among  the  refined  and 
educated  classes  of  society.  When  the  first  savage  tapped 
the  india-rubber  tree  how  little  did  he  dream,”  etc. 

The  enthusiast  for  this  process  did  not  foresee  the 
overwhelming  arrival  of  photographic  methods  that 
have  swept  this  one  away.  But  he  had  a prophetic 
sense  of  the  uses  of  rubber,  which  is  having  far-reach- 
ing effects  on  printing  at  the  present  time,  in  the  offset 
Press,  quite  apart  from  its  other  commercial  uses. 

Large  drawing  not  necessary  to  express  great  size 

An  important,  but  frequently  overlooked,  fact  in 
scale  is  that  a sense  of  grandeur  or  of  towering  height 
of  a building,  a mountain,  or  a Titan,  will  not  be 
achieved  either  by  using  a large  sheet  of  paper,  nor  by 
an  accumulation  of  gigantic  parts  to  build  up  the 
enormous  whole.  The  sense  of  impressive  size  is  as 
readily  produced  on  a half  sheet  of  notepaper  as  on  a 
ten  or  twenty  foot  canvas,  since  in  both  cases  it  is 
arrived  at  by  proportion,  A baby  drawn  on  the  half- 
sheet will  look  no  less  essentially  a baby  if  enlarged  to 

168 


dore  and  scale 


No.  74.  Millais.  The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge. 

twenty  feet  high  ; nor  will  a mountain  painted  upon 
the  backcloth  of  a theatre  look  smaller,  as  a mountain, 
though  reduced  to  the  size  of  a postage  stamp.  The 

169 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
backcloth  may  be  painted  to  represent  nothing  larger 
than  a cottage  interior,  yet  through  the  window  may  be 
seen  the  Alps.  How  is  this  ? 

Let  us  suppose  that  we  have  to  represent  a giant  in 
a space  2 in.  high  by  2 in.  base.  He  is  described  as  of 
enormous  height,  with  a tremendous  head  ; his  great 
muscles  bulging,  his  great  footprints  annihilating 
cities,  his  hands  swinging  an  uprooted  tree  for  a club, 
till  we  are  appalled  at  the  accumulation. 

If  all  these  details  are  drawn  as  large  as  possible, 
with  every  toe  as  big  as  a street,  what  shall  we  get  as  a 
result  ? 

A dwarf — a clumsily  built  baby,  “ The  smallest 
Giant  on  record.”  We  shall  have  equal  length  and 
breadth,  and  so  miss  the  impression  of  height. 

Great  size  is  conveyed  rather  by  the  minimizing  of 
detail,  the  keeping  of  it  small,  in  order  to  subtract  as 
little  as  possible  from  the  mass. 


CHAPTER  XXII 


REDUCTION  OF  DRAWINGS  BY  PROCESS 

WITH  the  introduction  of  process  it  was  found, 
provided  moderate  care  was  taken  in  the  etch- 
ing, that  it  was  possible  to  obtain  the  finest 
lines  the  sharpest  pen  was  capable  of  making,  and  to 
print  them  too.  Success  depended  more  upon  the  rapidity 
of  the  press  and  the  quality  of  the  paper  used  than  upon 
any  extravagant  demand  on  the  skill  of  the  block-maker. 
At  the  same  time,  the  more  incompetent  the  block-maker 
the  more  inclined  he  was  to  take  himself  seriously,  to 
make  difficulties,  and  to  endeavour  to  dictate  to  the 
artist  as  to  what  would  “ come  ” and  what  “ wouldn’t.” 
The  American  “ process  people,”  with  their  greater 
receptivity  of  modern  inventiveness  pushed,  not  against 
the  artist  in  order  to  make  things  easy  for  themselves, 
but  laid  themselves  out  to  see  how  far  it  was  possible 
to  go  with  him  in  the  direction  of  reproducing  the  most 
delicate  task  he  could  lay  upon  them.  It  was,  and  prob- 
ably still  is,  the  practice  of  American  artists  to  make 
even  their  pen  drawings  for  reproduction  very  large. 
It  is  debatable  whether  there  is  any  advantage  to  be 
gained  by  this,  but  it  is  well  that  every  experiment 
should  be  tried.  What  they  had  in  mind  was  doubtless 
the  idea  of  exploiting  reduction  as  a means  to  obtain 
an  appearance  of  great  delicacy  and  minuteness  in  the 
drawing,  the  pleasure  in  which  is  lost  so  soon  as  it  is 
known  that  the  skill  displayed  is  mechanical,  and  has 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
nothing  to  do  with  the  artist.  There  is  a curious  pleasure 
not  of  a very  high  order  to  be  found  in  minuteness  for 
its  own  sake  where  it  is  an  exhibition  of  skill  in  crafts- 
manship, such  as  the  engraving  of  the  Lord’s  Prayer 
on  a threepenny  bit,  and  similar  feats.  But  where  the 
minuteness  is  mechanically  arrived  at,  it  does  not  give 
rise  to  the  same  character  of  enjoyment.  The  delight 
in  the  possibilities  of  the  mechanical  process  carefully 
gone  over  by  the  wood  engraver,  which  enabled  Abbey 
to  indulge  as  freely  as  he  liked  in  the  suggestion  of 
colour  and  surface  qualities  and  textures,  as  in  the 
elaborate  drawing  of  silks  and  brocades  in  his  early 
costume  drawings,  which  constituted  so  much  of  their 
charm,  particularly  while  it  was  fresh,  in  the  end  threat- 
ened to  run  away  with  him.  In  his  later  work  it  appears 
as  though  he  dare  not  put  down  a masculine  line,  but 
must  build  a figure,  not  from  its  bones  outwards,  but 
by  the  cloth  in  which  it  was  clothed.  The  world  of  his 
art  became  a superfine  surface,  not  a constructed  solid. 

Most  pen  draughtsmen  are  inclined  to  make  their 
drawings  too  large  ; when  this  is  the  case  a certain 
thinness  is  the  result ; even  if  much  labour  is  spent 
in  the  enrichment  of  a thin  drawing  it  is  probable  that 
this  will  detract  from,  rather  than  help,  the  underlying 
conception,  the  simple  force  of  the  thought  being 
buried  under  a superfluous  pile  of  technique  ; the 
equivalent  of  a simple  thought  whose  effect  is  lost  in  a 
cloud  of  verbiage. 

Where  the  drawing  is  a simple  one,  and  the  size  of 
the  page  adequate,  the  drawing  can  conveniently  be 
made  of  the  same  size  as,  or  not  much  larger,  than  the 
reproduction.  It  will  be  found  easier  to  obtain  a rich 

172 


REDUCTION  OF  DRAWINGS  BY  PROCESS 


No.  75.  Millais.  The  Parable  of  the  Sower. 


effect  on  a scale  that  requires  precise,  delicate,  and 
fastidious  workmanship  rather  than  muscular  exercise 
to  cover  it  ; and  an  artist  will  prefer  the  reproduction 

173 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

to  be  as  like  his  work  as  possible,  without  a factitious 
minuteness. 

Whistler,  himself  an  American,  inveighed  against 
the  huge  etching,  with  some,  but  not  entire  justice, 
and  as,  to  some  extent,  his  remarks  are  applicable  to 
pen  drawing,  some  of  them  are  here  given  : 

“ Propositions  ” 

1.  That  in  Art  it  is  criminal  to  go  beyond  the  means 
used  in  its  exercise. 

2.  That  the  space  to  be  covered  should  always  be  in 
proper  relation  to  the  means  used  for  covering  it. 

3.  That  in  etching,  the  means  used,  or  instrument 
employed,  being  the  finest  possible  point,  the  space 
to  be  covered  should  be  small  in  proportion. 

4.  That  all  attempts  to  overstep  the  limits  insisted 
upon  by  such  proportion  are  inartistic  thoroughly, 
and  tend  to  reveal  the  paucity  of  the  means  used, 
instead  of  concealing  the  same,  as  required  by  Art 
in  its  refinement. 

5.  That  the  huge  plate,  therefore,  is  an  offence,  its 
undertaking  an  unbecoming  display  of  determin- 
ation and  ignorance,  its  accomplishment  a triumph 
of  unthinking  earnestness  and  uncontrollable  energy, 
endowments  of  the  “ duffer.” 

Whistler  does  appear  to  overlook  here  the  essential 
point  in  an  “ etching,”  namely,  the  use  of  acid,  and  it 
is  the  use  of  acid,  and  not  the  use  of  the  point,  which 
decides  the  thickness  of  a line.  The  etching  needle 
cannot  be  dissociated  from  the  use  of  acid.  Yet  there 
are  undoubtedly  artistic  limits  to  the  size  of  an  etching 
besides  those  imposed  by  the  size  of  an  etching  press. 

174 


175 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
We  realize  them,  but  need  not  further  analyse  them, 
but  see  to  what  extent  Whistler’s  main  contention  is 
applicable  to  pen  drawing. 

Propositions  i and  2 can  be  accepted  without  cavil, 
and,  while  in  general  practice  it  will  be  found  that  as 
Whistler’s  further  propositions,  while  not  absolutely 
conclusive,  do  generally  hold  good  so  far  as  the  large 
etching  plate  is  concerned,  they  also  serve  with  reserva- 
tions as  against  the  huge  pen  drawing. 

The  limiting  factors  in  the  matter  of  size  may  need 
re-stating  for  etching,  but  that  is  for  an  etcher  to  do. 
As  a pen  draughtsman,  I may  perhaps  venture  upon 
a few  tentative  conclusions,  or  at  least  put  forward  a 
few  considerations  towards  such. 

There  is  hardly  a limit  of  size  up  to  which  a pen 
drawing  cannot  effectively  be  enlarged,  if  it  is  a finely 
proportioned  drawing  to  begin  with,  as  may  be  seen 
whenever  pen  drawings  are  exhibited  upon  the  screen 
by  means  of  lantern  slides.  Even  the  tiniest  master- 
piece becomes  surprising,  not,  as  might  be  expected, 
by  its  coarseness  or  enlargement,  but  by  its  delicacy  ; 
without  loss  of  strength  it  gains  greatly  in  impressive- 
ness. Yet  in  spite  of  this,  pen  drawing  is  naturally 
limited,  not  only  by  the  thickness  or  fineness  of  the 
pen  (which  is  a variable  matter  from  the  reed  to  Bran- 
dauer’s  518),  as  an  etching  is  rather  by  the  width  of  a 
line  that  will  conveniently  hold  ink  when  the  printer’s 
rag  is  passed  over  it,  than  by  the  fineness  of  the  needle, 
as  well  as  by  this  consideration  for  pen  drawing  that 
the  length  of  the  natural  stroke  of  the  pen-point  as  the 
hand  rests  upon  the  board  should  dictate  the  scale  of 
the  drawing.  I find  that  without  moving  my  wrist  from 

176 


No.  77.  Millais.  Illustration  to  “Orley  Farm, 

177 


N 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


No.  78.  Leighton  (Frederick).  Cain.  Facsimile  wood  engraving. 
Almost  inspired. 


the  drawing  board,  and  holding  the  pen  in  a normal 
manner  as  in  writing,  and  maintaining  full  control  of 
the  pen  with  finger  and  thumb,  I can  describe  a par- 
abolic curve  having  a segment  of  about  nine  and  a half 
inches  more  or  less.  This  may  be  taken  as  deciding 
the  scale  inside  which  the  hand  and  wrist  will  best 
control  the  pen.  It  should  be  an  exceptional  case  that 


REDUCTION  OF  DRAWINGS  BY  PROCESS 
would  require  a single  curve  or  stroke  in  excess  of  this 
limit,  as  this  will  call  for  the  joining  on  of  one  or  more 
strokes  to  complete  the  line,  or  the  employment,  not 
of  the  wrist  and  fingers,  but  that  the  stroke  should  be 
made  from  the  elbow,  or  even  the  shoulder,  when 
delicacy  of  control  by  the  finger  and  thumb  would  be 
lost.  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  the  characteristic 
of  a pen  is  its  precision  ; and  that  if  control  by  the 
finger  and  thumb  is  lost,  this  characteristic  goes  with 
it.  Besides  this  consideration  lies  that  of  the  thickness 
of  the  pen  employed,  and  the  amount  of  ink  it  will 
naturally  carry  without  being  a source  of  annoyance, 
(i)  because  the  ink  is  exhausted  before  the  stroke  is 
complete,  (2)  from  the  constant  danger  of  blots  from 
an  over-charged  pen. 

The  thickness  of  the  main  lines  of  a composition 
when  first  put  down  should  be  such  that  they  are 
plainly  and  clearly  seen  at  the  distance  from  the  eye  at 
which  it  is  intended  by  the  artist  that  his  drawing  shall 
be  viewed  as  a whole,  otherwise  they  will  either  be 
weak  in  effect  or  require  strengthening.  The  finest 
lines  need  be  no  finer  than  that  when  the  composition 
is  viewed  as  a whole,  they  shall  be  fine  enough  to 
appear  to  lose  their  identity,  and  become  parts  of  a 
group  of  lines,  and  not  challenge  the  predominance  of 
the  lines  of  construction.  The  fineness  or  thickness  of 
lines  have  no  intrinsic  artistic  value,  but  only  in  relation 
to  each  other  and  the  scale  of  the  composition. 

Any  elaboration  that  detracts  from  the  dignity  and 
unity  of  effect  of  a composition  should  be  avoided, 
and,  where  one  line  will  do  instead  of  two,  it  will  be 
more  than  twice  as  valuable  artistically. 

179 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


SOME  LIMITATIONS  AND  POSSIBILITIES  IN 
BLACK  AND  WHITE  CONVENTION 

There  is  always  interest  and  excitement  to  be 
got  from  exploring  the  limits  imposed  by  the 
use  of  any  given  medium,  and  nothing  is  more 
instructive  than  experiments  conducted  with  this  view, 
or  even,  and  probably  this  is  more  general,  without  any 
idea  that  a judicious  use  of  the  medium  does  impose  lim- 
itations. Full  tone  effects,  with  faces  elaborately  drawn 
and  strictly  modelled  in  shadow  or  half  tone  against  the 
light,  will  strain  the  medium  of  pen  drawing  further 
than  it  is  in  general  wise  to  carry  it,  and  disappoint- 
ment is  almost  inevitable.  A suggestive  method  rather 
than  a strict  one  is  more  likely  to  be  successful  ; but  it 
is  wise  to  realize  that  minor  differences  of  tone  or  local 
colour  should  be  disregarded  if  tone  is  attempted,  and 
only  the  main  oppositions  of  light  and  dark  estab- 
lished, with  no  more  minor  tones  than  are  necessary 
to  keep  things  in  place  or  to  sweeten  the  passage  of 
shade  on  a rounded  form.  To  put  it  graphically,  the 
world  to  a pen  draughtsman  might  consist  of  black 
and  white  men  and  women,  it  being  not  properly  his 
concern  to  discriminate  the  subtle  complexion  of 
objects,  his  business  being  primarily  with  form.  He 
may  introduce  light  and  shade,  but  he  will  be  wise  to 
confine  his  attempts  to  such  light  and  shade  as  reveal 
and  emphasize  rather  than  conceal  or  veil  the  essential 

i8o 


SOME  LIMITATIONS  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

form.  The  mysteries  of  night  and  twilight  are  better 
left  to  other  media  than  to  the  unaided  pen,  not  be- 
cause these  are  absolutely  beyond  the  limits  of  pen- 
manship to  suggest,  but  because  the  expression  of  such 
mysteriousness  is  by  way  of  being  a tour  de  force,  and 
is  not  in  the  natural  genius  of  the  medium.  That  such 
a method  is  laborious  does  not,  or  would  not,  matter 
if  the  results  were  not  frequently  tedious  and  dull.  If 
a subject  is  incapable  of  clear,  dignified  statement,  or 
of  direct  and  witty  summary,  which  are  the  natural 
aims  of  pen  drawing — if  surface  rather  than  form, 
space  rather  than  limit,  atmosphere  or  obscurity  rather 
than  definition,  qualification  rather  than  simplicity, 
vagueness  rather  than  lucidity,  are  aimed  at — then  other 
means  will  more  conveniently  yield  what  is  wanted. 

Submission  to  the  limitations  imposed  by  space  and 
medium  is  the  mark  of  the  artist  and  master  of  his 
craft,  as  rebellion  and  experiment  are  the  marks  of  the 
healthy  apprentice.  The  desire  for  fulness  of  repre- 
sentation, however,  yields  to  the  selective  sense  in  the 
end,  and  the  limitations  imposed  by  media  are  more 
willingly  observed  the  more  experience  and  experi- 
ment have  pointed  them  out.  The  wise  critic  will 
applaud  economy  of  means  rather  than  extravagance, 
though  a certain  extravagance  is  to  be  looked  for  and 
condoned  when  youth  is  feeling  its  way  to  its  kingdom. 

A most  effective  convention,  more  natural  it  might 
be  thought  to  the  wood-cutter  even  than  that  of  leaving 
a line  in  relief,  is  that  of  drawing  by  masses  of  light, 
leaving  out  any  attempt  at  half  tone  ; all  lights  above 
a certain  pitch  being  cut  out,  and  all  shades  below 
being  left  black,  with  the  exception  that  line  or  minor 

i8i 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
shapes  of  dark  are  left  where  necessary  to  delimit 
essential  forms.  Such,  roughly,  was  the  method  adopted 
by  Nicholson  for  his  “ Alphabet.”  Somewhat  reminis- 
cent of  the  wood  engravings  or  wood  cuts  of  the  old 
Broad  sheets.  Ballad  headings,  and  the  work  of  the 


No.  79.  Sandys.  “The  Old  Chartist.”  Facsimile  wood  engraving. 

Sandys  is  one  of  England’s  greatest  artists. 

elder  Crawhall  as  it  was,  in  the  hands  of  so  expert  an 
artist  and  craftsman  it  proved  capable  of  yielding 
extraordinarily  rich  effects,  as  the  natural  balance  of 
light  and  dark  is  arrived  at  by  the  excess  of  each  mutu- 
ally cancelling  out.  Of  course,  while  a jolly  decorative 
effect  is  readily  obtainable  by  this  means,  these  are 
obtainable  only  where  the  subject  is  simple  enough  to 

182 


SOME  LIMITATIONS  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 
lend  itself  to  such  treatment,  otherwise  these  effects 
may  be  obtainable  only  at  the  sacrifice  of  subtleties  of 
form  or  detail  which  are  readily  obtainable  by  other 
means.  A considerable  amount  of  black  and  white 
drawing  in  pen  and  brush  has  been  founded  upon  this 
system,  and  an  effective  combination  is  possible  be- 
tween line  and  solid  black,  as  may  be  seen  frequently  in 
the  work  of  Phil  May,  notably  in  his  sketch  of  Mickiewiez 
in  the  “Parson  and  the  Painter.” 

At  the  present  time  the  public  is  more  accustomed 
to  a variety  of  artistic  conventions  and  their  many  com- 
binations and  modifications  than  was  the  case  twenty 
and  thirty  years  ago,  when  a more  or  less  photographic 
ideal  still  obtained,  and  when  wash  drawing  was  looked 
upon  by  art  editors  and  the  public  as  a method  superior 
to  and  “ more  finished  ” than  the  “ pen  sketch,”  and 
to  that  extent  the  young  artist  is  better  off  than  his 
immediate  predecessors,  who  had  to  invent  new  or 
adapt  and  force  through  old  methods  that,  familiar  as 
they  are  now  to  the  public,  were  generally  at  the  time 
resented  as  revolutionary. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


SUGGESTIONS  TO  BE  FOUND  IN  COPPER- 
PLATE ENGRAVING  FOR  PEN  DRAWING 

WHILE  the  mediaevally  inclined  among  book 
illustrators  have  been  inspired  by  the  work 
of  the  wood-cutter  of  line , since  his  w'ork  was 
designed  to  be  printed  in  the  same  manner  as  letterpress, 
and  frequently  with  it,  there  is  as  much  or  more  reason 
why  he  should  look,  not  to  the  wood-cutters  but  to  the 
engravers  on  copper  as  exemplars  of  strict  style,  if  he 
must  look  backwards  for  inspiration,  ^since  the  burin 
naturally  yields  a line  much  more  in  correspondence 
with  our  modern  steel  nib  than  the  line  left  by  the 
wood-cutter’s  knife,  and  is  equally  reproducible.  It  has 
to  be  borne  in  mind  always  that  the  wood-cutter  had  to 
make  two  lines  always  to  the  draughtsman’s  one,  and  it 
is  remarkable  how  well  he  generally  managed  to  preserve 
the  illusion  that  the  draughtsman’s  line  is  the  work  of  the 
wood-cutter,  rather  than  the  white  space  in  which  it 
exists.  It  is  the  white  and  not  the  black  that  is  the 
wood-cutter’s  work,  it  being  his  business  to  see  that  the 
white  should  touch  without  impinging  upon  the  black 
line  drawn  upon  the  wood  by  the  artist.  It  is  indeed 
miraculous  with  what  fidelity  his  uninspiring  task  was 
carried  out,  since  any  display  of  personality  on  his  own 
part,  except  in  a capacity  for  devoted  self-sacrifice, 
must  prove  a fatal  impertinence.  It  remains  none  the 
less  that  the  line  printed  from  a wood  block  is  not  the 

184 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  PEN  DRAWING 


No.  80.  Sandys.  King  War-Wolf.  A noble  drawing. 

While  maintaining  Durer’s  strictness  of  style,  Sandys  contrived  to 
add  local  colour  and  a fuller  light  and  shade. 

wood-cutter’s  or  wood  engraver’s  line  ; it  is  the  white 
spaces  that  are  his  handiwork,  while  the  line  of  an 
engraver  upon  metal  is  the  engraver’s  own,  and  corre- 
sponds more  nearly  to  the  characteristic  stroke  of  a pen 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

than  that  which  the  wood-cutter  has  had  ever  so 
gingerly  to  approach  and  leave  alone. 

The  modern  pen  draughtsman,  therefore,  in  looking 
back,  while  not  neglecting  the  great  wood  cuts  as  a 
basis  for  the  formation  of  style  in  drawing,  should  not 
neglect  a study  of  the  engravings  on  metal  of  the  same 
period.  There  is  no  reason  why  the  virility  of  the  one 
should  not  be  combined  with  the  delicacy  of  the  other 
in  due  proportion,  since  modern  methods  of  photo- 
graphic reproduction  can  render  either  or  both  at  once 
with  impartial  ease  and  fidelity,  the  only  restraining 
considerations  for  the  artist  being  the  appropriateness 
of  their  employment,  the  quality  of  the  paper,  and  the 
printing  to  be  expected. 

That  any  humane  being  can  be  found  to  regret  the 
days  of  the  facsimile  wood  engraver  is  a wonder,  since 
here  is  a case  where  the  hand  is  definitely  inferior  to 
the  machine.  Accuracy  was  the  highest  requirement, 
and  it  would  be  as  inhumane  to  desire  the  mistress  of 
the  house  with  great  pains  to  miscalculate  the  servants’ 
wages  for  the  month  rather  than  to  get  them  right  by 
the  simple  means  of  a ready-reckoner.  And  yet  many 
humane  people  do  sigh  for  everything  to  be  “ hand 
done,”  instead  of  devoting  their  energies  towards 
seeing  that  the  machine  is  properly  directed.  The  risk 
of  the  employment  of  a machine  is  that  things  are  some- 
times made  so  easy  that  a habit  of  entire  carelessness 
is  induced,  and  the  machine  is  blamed  for  the  defects 
of  the  man  behind  it. 

The  V shaped  burin,  if  used  with  variations  of  force, 
ploughs  a line  more  nearly  resembling  in  its  varying 
thickness  that  of  the  pen  than  does  the  etched  line, 

i86 


No.  81.  Sandys.  Harald  Harfagr.  A magnificent  example  of 
combination  of  strict  line,  light  and  shade,  local  colour,  and  tone. 

187 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
and  the  work  of  a master  of  the  burin  might  be  studied 
as  a corrective  against  any  tendency  towards  sloppiness 
of  style.  Not  being  so  facile  of  handling  as  the  pen, 
economy,  precision,  and  restraint  are  virtues  which  the 
burin  imposes,  where  the  pen  sometimes  runs  away  with 
the  artist  and  leads  to  profusion,  indefinition,  and 
haphazard  workmanship. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


“ LINE  ” AND  LINES 

Though  the  pen  has  its  special  characteristics 
and  advantages,  these  should  not  be  strained 
in  order  to  make  a display  of  “ penmanship  ” 
at  the  expense  of  the  form  expressed.  Line,  Line,  Line, 
and  always  Line,  as  expression  of  the  essential  form  in 
the  simplest  and  most  direct  manner  should  be  the  aim 
of  the  stylist  with  the  pen,  as  with  any  other  point. 

Theories  of  Imes.  Watts  and  the  Intransigeants 

On  one  occasion  Watts  was  particularly  interesting 
on  the  subject  of  line  and  largeness  of  style.  He  dwelt 
on  the  fact  that  few  things  in  nature  are  exactly  globu- 
lar or  circular — the  more  exactly  it  tended  towards  the 
smoothly  spherical  the  smaller  an  object  appeared  ; but 
that  usually  even  those  forms  wLich  most  tend  towards 
the  circular  were  in  nature  made  up  of  broken  arcs  of 
larger  circles.  We  were  walking  round  the  garden  at 
Little  Holland  House,  and  to  emphasize  his  point  he 
pulled  a nasturtium  leaf,  which  conveyed  his  idea  to  a 
nicety. 

Extremes  meet  sometimes  ; yet  it  is  remarkable 
how  closely  Watts’  theory  resembled  that  of  the  “ In- 
transigeants ” as  they  were  at  that  time  known — the 
group  to  which  Toulouse  de  L’Hautrec,  Gauguin,  and 
van  Gogh  belonged.  These  were  destined  later  to  be- 
come both  famous  and  notorious  in  London  as  the 

189 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
“ Post  Impressionists.”  When  I explained  Watts’ 
theory  to  A.  S.  Hartrick,  then  just  back  from  France, 
where  he  had  seen  much  of  this  group,  he  told  me  that 
one  of  their  tenets  was — “ All  drawing  is  an  Egg,”  the 
theory,  as  I understood  it  at  the  time,  containing  the 
idea  at  its  root  that  all  forms  take  shape,  no  matter 
how  complicated,  from  their  origin  ; as  well  as  its 
more  obvious  implications. 

“ ’Tis  de  outline  what  make  turn — ^what  make  turn 
is  de  outline,”  was  a favourite  saying  of  Durand  at  the 
Graphic  ; and  it  was,  I imagine,  a rendering  of  a saying 
of  Ingres,  under  whom  he  had,  I believe,  studied. 

No  matter  how  dark  a tone  is  used,  or  how  fine  the 
lines  composing  it  may  be,  it  is  essential  that  the  direc- 
tion of  any  group  of  these  lines  should  be  carefully 
considered,  and  as  truly  laid  as  if  they  were  individual 
outlines.  Insensitiveness  in  this  matter  may  undo 
much  otherwise  fine  drawing.  So  far  from  solidifying 
it,  which  is  usually  their  intention,  ill-directed  lines 
may  flatten  a form  as  with  an  iron,  or  crumple  it  like 
tin.  Qualifying  lines  should  always  be  considered  as  a 
group,  otherwise  the  individual  lines  may  have  the 
effect  of  a pattern  upon  the  surface  rather  than  suggest- 
ing the  surface  itself. 

A very  good  example  of  a nice  discrimination  in  this 
matter  is  to  be  seen  in  the  Austin  Dobson  bookplate 
by  E.  A.  Abbey,  where  the  value  of  every  line  and  of 
the  spaces  between  lines  has  been  calculated  with 
extraordinary  nicety,  so  that  lines  and  spaces  of  almost 
equal  value  appear  at  will  either  as  a group  or  as  in- 
dividual lines.  This  will  be  better  understood  if  the 
lines  representing  the  floor  boards  in  the  tiny  picture 

190 


“ LINE  ” AND  LINES 


No.  82.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  From  the  “Arabian  Nights.” 

Wood  engraving.  A fine  example  of  spacing  of  mass  and  rhythm  of  line. 


Upon  the  wall  be  compared  with  the  light  half  tone  of 
the  background  ; and  if  the  high  lights  upon  the  fur- 
niture are  studied,  it  will  be  seen  what  effect  is  gained 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
by  seeing  to  it  that,  small  as  they  are,  they  are  kept 
unchallenged  by  equivalent  lights  near  them.  These 
lights  might  easily  have  been  thrown  away  if  their  pre- 
dominance had  not  been  meticulously  safeguarded. 
The  luminosity  of  the  shadow,  and  the  suggestion  of 
texture,  are  also  deserving  of  careful  study  ; and  alto- 
gether this  little  drawing  is  to  be  regarded  as  a miracle 
of  dainty  craftsmanship  in  its  particular  kind. 


192 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


METHODS  OF  TONE  DRAWING 

Wash 

Looking  through  a bundle  of  magazines  taken 
haphazard  is  likely  to  be  a tedious  business,  par- 
ticularly where  “wash”  illustrations  predominate. 
The  temptation  to  exact  and  full  representation  of 
appearances  gives  a photographic  effect  that  has  no 
interest  except  its  content — the  artist  in  such  cases  being 
nothing  but  an  inferior  kind  of  camera — or  if  the  effort 
is  made  to  give  dramatic  effect  by  forcing  the  light  and 
shade,  we  are  at  once  aware  of  the  falsity  as  of  a negative 
at  once  under  and  over  exposed  in  patches.  The  more 
correct  the  observation  the  more  photographic  the  effect, 
and  emphasis  of  character,  movement,  or  lighting  imme- 
diately induces  a sense  of  affectation  or  unnaturalness. 
For  this  reason  personality  is  rather  a hindrance  than  a 
help  in  this  method  of  expression,  and  the  result  is  that 
one  drawing  differs  from  another  only  by  its  defects, 
while  the  most  perfect  is  the  most  perfectly  dull.  Nothing 
in  all  the  history  of  art  looks  more  dead.  It  is  only  when 
the  artist  conventionalizes  his  treatment  that  it  becomes 
capable  of  emphasis  without  giving  the  sense  of  untruth 
to  nature  ; let  us  take,  for  instance,  the  work  of  Maurice 
Greiffenhagen,  whose  work,  no  matter  how  closely 
rendered  the  facts  may  be,  is  never  photographic,  the 
reason  being  that  it  is  capable  of  artistic  emphasis  from 
the  manner  in  which  the  form  is  enforced  by  a dog- 
matic use  of  line  in  addition  to  the  wash.  By  this  means 

193 


o 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
the  artist  manages  to  make  the  most  ordinary  facts 
extraordinarily  vivid,  and  in  a manner  invariably  digni- 
fied by  a fine  decorative  sense  of  composition  and  re- 
lation, that  might  appear  forced  if  the  method  were  not 
to  some  extent  conventionalized.  It  is  time  for  artists 


No.  83.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  The  Grief  of  Camaralzaman,  from  the 
“Arabian  Nights.”  Finely  conceived  as  drama. 


to  see  that  art  does  not  consist  in  the  simple  representa- 
tion of  things  seen,  and  that  what  can  be  done  by  the 
photographer  should  be  left  to  him. 

In  the  days  before  the  Meisenbach  process,  when 
wash  drawings  were  engraved  on  wood,  a certain  liveli- 
ness was  sometimes  imparted  to  them  by  the  wood 
engraver,  if  he  was  a skilful  craftsman,  because  of  the 
translation  of  the  wash  by  means  of  lines,  but  even  this 
was  not  satisfactory,  as  not  giving  the  artist’s  exact 

194 


METHODS  OF  TONE  DRAWING 
work,  and  the  spectator  was  in  doubt  between  the 
draughtsman  and  the  engraver.  Young  artists  welcomed 
the  half-tone  process,  as  rendering  their  work  more 
subtly  and  faithfully  ; not  foreseeing  at  the  time  how 
soon  it  would  show  them  the  limitations  of  the  medium 
in  which  they  worked.  These  were,  of  course,  dis- 
covered by  artists  long  before  the  public,  which  looked 
upon  “ wash  drawing  ” as  a “ finished  ” product,  and 
a drawing  in  line  of  any  kind,  but  particularly  the  pen, 
as  “ scratchy  ” or  “ a sketch,”  so  that  art  editors 
clamoured  for  “ wash  ” drawing  ad  nauseam.  Then,  of 
course,  came  the  photographically  illustrated  press 
and  the  cinematograph,  both  admirable  things,  and  the 
artist  is  free,  if  he  will,  to  devote  himself  to  art,  and 
leave  the  camera  to  do  the  work  of  record  making. 

Other  methods 

There  are  other  methods  of  drawing  for  reproduction 
for  printing  with  type  ; as  for  instance,  by  the  use  of 
“ scrape-out  ” process  papers,  when  one,  two,  or  three 
tones  are  ready  printed  upon  prepared  clay  surfaces  ; 
so  that  by  scraping  away  the  top  layer  another  tone  is 
disclosed  ; and  finally  white  alone.  Among  the  few 
artists  who  have  satisfactorily  worked  in  this  medium 
should  be  mentioned  Louis  Legrand  (in  the  Courrier 
Francais  about  1890),  who  managed  to  maintain  his 
artistic  dignity  in  the  use  of  this  horrible  stuff.  It  was 
made  most  use  of,  I believe,  in  Germany,  and  in  the 
hands  of  Thony  this  method  was  made  to  yield  quite 
extraordinary  results,  particularly  in  conjunction  with 
one  or  two  simple  and  conventionally  applied  colours. 
In  the  “ Parson  and  the  Painter  ” Phil  May  did  a few 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
drawings  in  this  method,  but,  happily,  not  many.  A 
drawing  may  be  good  in  spite  of  the  method,  and  not 
because  of  it.  The  method  has  this  to  commend  it  over 
wash  drawing,  that  it  conduces  to  a selective  treatment. 
Various  flat  mechanical  tones  of  lines  or  dots  can  be 
applied  by  the  process  man  upon  the  plate  itself 
from  transfer  paper  if  the  artist  thinks  it  desirable, 
and  he  indicates  where  it  is  to  be  applied  by  a blue  tint, 
which  does  not  photograph,  but  serves  as  a guide  to 
the  craftsman,  who  paints  out  with  Chinese  white  or 
gum  those  parts  on  the  block  where  there  is  to  be  no 
tint,  and  then  applies  the  transfer  before  the  plate  is 
etched.  Where  these  tints  are  well  chosen  they  can  be 
serviceable ; but  in  England,  the  process-man,  left  to  his 
own  way,  will  most  probably  choose  a tint  of  the  vilest 
and  most  mechanical  order,  totally  inappropriate  to 
the  drawing.  Any  such  methods  are  best  left  alone 
except  in  case  of  absolute  necessity,  and  cases  of 
absolute  necessity  are  very  rare. 

Any  medium  that  compels  selection  rather  than  offers 
facility  of  inclusiveness  is  likely  to  squeeze  the  best  out 
of  any  artist.  The  severer  the  limitations  and  the  more 
fully  they  are  accepted  the  better  will  be  the  result  ; 
so  that  mechanical  as  these  “ scrape  out  ” methods 
and  dotted  tints  appear,  a more  vivid  effect  is  frequently 
obtained  from  them  in  artistic  hands  than  from  the 
use  of  unrestricted  wash. 

Surface  finish  ” 

The  reason  that  our  public  monuments  are  in  general 
so  bad  is  that  surface  and  not  shape  has  been  followed  in 
an  attempt  to  give  “ finish  ” to  a work  that  has  never 

196 


METHODS  OF  TONE  DRAWING 
truly  been  begun.  Petty  realisms  of  costume  take  the 
place  of  splendour  of  outline  : the  exact  reproduction 
of  sword,  sword-knot  and  spur  have  degraded  much 
of  our  official  sculpture  to  the  level  of  a tailor’s  dummy. 
The  artist  is  not  proud  enough,  and  accepts  dictation 


No.  84.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  From  the  “Arabian  Nights.” 

Shows  as  much  wit  in  the  leaving  of  white  as  in  the  putting  in  of  black. 


upon  the  very  points  upon  which  he  should  dictate, 
and  never  submit.  Surface  is  common  to  all  things — 
what  differentiates  them  and  gives  them  significance  is 
form. 

Our  schools  of  art  have  been  much  to  blame  in  this 
matter.  The  Academy  used  to  insist  upon  students 
who  applied  for  admission  to  its  schools  passing  a test 
at  the  most  impressionable  period  of  their  lives,  not 
in  the  exercise  of  direct  force  in  the  grasp  of  form  or 

197 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
imagination,  but  in  the  patient  niggling  and  stippling 
of  surface  inessentials  carefully  copied  from  the  antique 
long  before  they  could  appreciate  it.  The  medium  of 
expression  most  favoured  by  South  Kensington  was 
the  “ stump,”  for  smearing  on  the  powdered  chalk, 


No.  85.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  “The  Dust  Barrel 
Nuisance,”  from  “Graphic  America.” 
Characteristically  fantastic  in  observation  of  fact. 


only  suitable  for  the  representation  of  surfaces,  and  not 
for  drawing  a line,  the  presence. of  which  was  generally 
looked  upon  in  these  exercises  as  a defect.  It  is  not  the 
general  but  the  particular  statement  that  is  of  value, 
and  what  particularizes  is  not  the  surface  but  the  form, 
and  what  expresses  the  form  is  Line. 

At  the  other  extreme  from  the  perpetual  vig- 
netted wash  drawings  in  the  magazines  in  illustration 
of  the  little  tales  of  love  or  adventure,  which  are  pro- 
duced to  meet  the  demand  of  an  uneducated  public, 

198 


METHODS  OF  TONE  DRAWING 
may  be  set  the  highly  solemn  and  dull  productions  of 
a “ chaste  ” decorative  school,  working  in  an  archaic 
manner  with  an  affectation  of  naivete,  but  from 
which  all  the  masculine  vigour  of  the  originals  followed 
has  been  cut  away.  Not  only  do  they  work  to  the  limita- 
tions imposed  upon  the  artist  by  the  wood -cutter,  but 
more  so  when  there  is  no  need— suppleness  and  variety 
of  line  are  thrown  overboard  ; and  they  draw,  not  as 
with  a pen,  but  as  though  with  a wood-chopper,  going 
all  the  way  to  imitate  the  work,  not  of  the  artist  who 
drew  upon  the  wood,  but  straining  the  modern  medium 
to  imitate  the  wood-cutter’s  failure  to  render  the  artist’s 
work.  After  all  this  the  work  is  reproduced  by  photo- 
graphy and  printed  by  steam.  I am  reminded  of  a 
modern  piece  of  “ half-timbering  ” which  I saw  ex- 
ecuted in  the  country.  The  “ half-timbering  ” was 
carried  out  by  nailing  up  thin  boards  on  the  outer 
surface  of  the  villa  wall  ; then  great  oaken  pins  were 
stuck  in  here  and  there,  on  the  honest  principle  of  not 
concealing  the  construction  ! Naivete  is  charming, 
but  this  skittish  affectation  of  it  is  annoying,  ‘ ‘ like  an 
old  ewe  dressed  lamb-fashion.” 


199 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


COLOURED  ILLUSTRATIONS  & “ MAKE-UP  ” 

The  facility  with  which  any  work  in  colour  can 
be  reproduced  by  the  three-colour  process, 
whether  intended  for  reproduction  or  not,  has 
so  popularized  colour  books  that  attention  might  again 
be  paid  by  artists  to  a more  selective  and  arbitrary 
treatment  of  colour  than  is  absolutely  necessary  where 
practically  any  colour  is  mechanically  reproducible. 
Admirable  in  some  ways  as  the  printing  of  Caldecott, 
Walter  Crane,  and  Kate  Greenaway  books  was,  advance 
might  be  made  along  similar  lines  without  greater 
elaboration,  but  by  using  colour  with  increased  know- 
ledge on  the  part  of  the  artist  of  what  is  obtainable  by 
equally  simple  means.  For  instance,  by  adopting  a 
scheme  in  three  printings,  based  upon  black,  a second- 
ary and  one  primary,  instead  of  as  usually  upon  three 
primaries,  the  artist  always  working  to  a limited  scheme 
in  which  was  one  dominant  note  of  colour,  rather  than 
using  the  entire  gamut  both  of  colour  and  gradation, 
a more  virile  and  not  necessarily  less  delicate  result 
would  be  obtained,  and  the  disadvantages  at  present 
attendant  upon  the  use  of  the  three-colour  process  in 
the  necessary  use  of  glazed  paper  on  mounts,  the 
employment  of  fugitive  inks,  and  the  difficulty  of  find- 
ing any  satisfactory  solution  to  the  problems  of 
“ bookmaking  ” out  of  such  material  would  be  done 
away  with. 


200 


COLOURED  ILLUSTRATIONS  & “ MAKE-UP  ” 


No.  86.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  “ The  Saint’s  Story.” 
Aniadmirable  example  of  his  methods  of  line-laying  and  cross-hatching. 

An  illustrator  is  always  called  over  the  coals  for  the 
tiniest  error,  even  though  it  happens  to  be  in  an  abstruse 
matter  of  which  only  a specialist  has  knowledge.  He 
should  at  least  know  what  he  doesn’t  know — this  being 


201 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
more  useful  than  knowledge— but  he  should  know 
how  and  where  to  find  out.  A general  idea  of  most 
things  with  a capacity  for  rapid  specialization  is  per- 
haps the  most  useful  equipment ; without  endeav- 
ouring to  burden  the  mind  with  an  enormous  mass  of 
unrelated  facts.  But  he  should  certainly  have  some 
knowledge  of  type  and  lettering,  and  be  able  to  make 
some  passable  hand  at  designing  a title  page,  or  at 
least  know  enough  to  give  a valuable  opinion  upon  it ; 
and  the  appropriateness  or  otherwise  of  the  type  to  be 
employed  in  connection  with  his  work. 

He  will  find  it  a good  plan  to  carry  out  any  series  of 
book  illustrations  to  the  same  scale  ; all  the  drawings 
will  then  be  reproduced  in  the  same  proportion,  and 
unity  of  effect  as  the  leaves  are  turned  over  will  be 
maintained  without  patchiness.  By  this  it  is  not  meant 
that  variety  is  not  to  be  aimed  at  ; but  variety  in  bounds 
and  in  harmony.  The  reader  of  an  illustrated  book 
should  not  be  called  upon  to  change  his  focus,  as  though 
from  a life-size  portrait  to  a miniature  and  back  again, 
as  in  a badly-hung  picture  show.  In  setting  the  scale 
of  drawing,  if  he  decides  upon  the  smallest  convenient 
size  in  which  he  can  express  the  smallest  object  he 
considers  essential  to  his  subject,  this  will  dictate  to 
him,  but  if  he  expands  the  composition  beyond  reason 
he  will  find  that  what  he  began  by  considering  an 
essential  has  ended  by  becoming  insignificant. 

“ Make-up  ” 

Frequently  too  little  regard  is  paid  to  the  make-up 
of  an  illustrated  book,  even  by  houses  which  issue 
considerable  numbers  of  them.  Almost  every  writer 


202 


COLOURED  IIUUSTRATIONS  & “ MAKE-UP  ” 
who  says  anything  of  the  work  of  the  ’sixties  has  his 
fling  at  the  style  of  make-up  of  the  pages  and  the 
terrible  borders  and  head  and  tail  pieces  introduced 
by  the  printers  of  the  time.  In  the  book  advertisements 
we  read  of  “chaste  designs  in  gold,”  or  “superb  binding,” 
or  “ designs  by  Owen  Jones,”  or  “ elegantly  ” or 
“ richly  bound  in  cloth  from  a design  by  John 
Leighton,  F.R.A.S.,”  or  “ ornamental  designs  by  J. 
Sleigh.”  These  gentlemen,  in  order  to  have  their  names 
given  equal  prominence  with  the  illustrators  and  en- 
gravers, must  have  reached  a bad  eminence  in  their 
trade  ; but  it  shows  that  it  was  taste  and  not  goodwill 
that  was  at  fault.  Accidentally  I find  an  indication  of 
the  great  care  taken  in  printing  in  the  case  of  Home 
Thoughts  and  Home  Scenes,  where  the  Houghton  draw- 
ings and  the  letterpress  are  printed  on  one  side  only  of 
a very  stout  plate  paper,  probably  page  by  page.  The 
sheets  are  all  single  and  unfolded  ; probably  the  paper 
was  too  stout  to  fold  satisfactorily  ; but  their  inner 
edges  were  attached  to  the  binding  by  rubber  solution, 
which  allowed  the  pages  to  fall  open  comfortably 
enough  until  the  rubber  perished.  There  is  evidence 
throughout  of  the  most  careful  overlaying  in  order  to 
render  the  full  strength  of  foreground,  and  the  delicate 
relations  between  middle-distance  and  distance  that  it 
would  be  natural  for  an  artist  working  in  pencil  to  ex- 
press— a difference  unattainable  by  the  engraver,  but 
to  some  extent  possible  to  the  printer.  It  is  a pity  that 
the  Arabian  Nights  are  not  so  finely  printed  on  as  good 
a paper,  but  at  least  these  volumes  don’t  come  unstuck. 
I am  unaware  whether  this  method  of  binding  was 
much  used  or  not. 


203 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

The  point  to  make  is  not  that  the  make-up  of  the 
books  was  bad  ; on  the  contrary,  much  thought  and 
skill  were  devoted  to  it,  the  pity  being  that  the  de- 
signers and  craftsmen  employed  looked  upon  lavish- 
ness of  decoration  as  what  they  were  called  in  to 
supply,  and  they  “ threw  their  weight  about  ” with 
curious  results. 

Nowadays  these  typographical  matters  have  received 
a closer  study  than  was  the  case  in  the  ’sixties,  and 
harmony  of  style  between  the  different  constituents  of 
a book  is  better  understood  if  not  always  acted  upon. 

It  is  not  that  taste  has  not  improved  in  the  matter  of 
book  production,  but  that  the  arrangement  is  frequently 
brought  about  haphazard  without  consultation  be- 
tween the  partners  to  its  production.  It  is  everybody’s 
business  and  nobody’s  business. 

Harmony  of  illustration  and  type 

The  illustrator  should  know  the  weight  of  type  with 
which  his  work  will  be  associated,  so  that  this,  no  matter 
what  style  of  treatment  is  adopted,  should  not  require 
the  reader  to  change  the  focus  of  his  eye  as  he  looks 
from  the  type  to  the  drawing  and  back  again.  Both 
should  “ read  ” evenly,  and  more  particularly  should 
this  be  a matter  of  study  in  the  case  where  drawings 
are  less  than  full-page  and  are  surrounded  by  type. 
No  drawing  should  require  a magnifying  glass,  except 
in  the  case  of  a person  of  defective  vision,  either  to 
execute  or  examine. 

Simplicity  of  arrangement 

Drawings,  no  matter  what  their  shape,  should  be 

204 


COLOURED  ILLUSTRATIONS  & “ MAKE-UP” 


reproduced  on  “ fool-proof  ” rectangular  blocks,  so 
that  no  zig-zagging  of  type  or  eccentricities  of  the  kind 
can  come  near  them. 

Nothing  is  more  irritating  to  the  judicious  than  a 
higgledy-piggledy  scattering  of  illustrations  about  a 


No.  87.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  “Tom,  Tom  the  Piper’s  Son.” 

A masterpiece  of  rhythm  of  line  and  opposition  of  light  and  dark,  but  the 
wood-engraver  has  lost  much  of  the  subtlety  of  the  original. 


page  of  type.  Yet  art  editors  of  magazines  whose  business 
it  is  to  see  to  these  things  are  the  worst  offenders, 
frequently  asking  for  drawings  not  to  be  squared  up, 
but  drawn  upon  a diagonal  on  purpose  to  be  streeled 
across  the  page,  with  step-ladders  of  type  jagging  into 
the  design  above  and  below,  or  for  “ thumb-nail 
sketches  ” to  sprinkle  in  the  margins.  Authors  must 
hate  such  treatment  of  their  work,  as  it  is  fidgetty  to 
read  under  such  conditions,  and  a protest  from  them 

205 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
would  add  weight  to  that  of  the  artist.  An  illustration 
should  live  comfortably  with  the  type  in  full  harmony, 
and  never  be  allowed  to  detract  from  the  bland  dignity 
of  the  page,  but  by  this  treatment  both  the  drawing 
and  the  letterpress  are  made  to  suffer  under  some  mis- 
taken idea  that  it  is  “ artistic.”  It  is  not.  All  fanciful 
and  eccentric  treatments  of  this  kind  are  abominations. 

Illustrations  for  books  should  also  be  composed  in 
such  a way  that  they  can  be  reproduced  upright  upon 
the  page,  so  that  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  turn  the  book 
sideways  to  examine  them.  This  is  a great  hardship 
for  the  artist  to  put  up  with  at  times,  but  his  drawing 
must  be  a work  of  genius  to  compensate  the  reader  for 
the  irritation  involved  by  the  interruption  to  the  general 
run  of  the  work. 

Unity  of  paper 

From  the  point  ot  view  of  book  production,  it  is 
better  for  the  illustrations  to  be  so  drawn  that  they  can 
be  printed  on  the  same  paper  as  the  type.  The  senses 
both  of  sight  and  touch  are  offended  by  the  intrusion 
of  an  occasional  sheet  of  so-called  “ Art  ” paper, 
necessitated  by  the  use  of  a half-tone  or  other  type  of 
block.  The  irritation  is  even  greater  if,  as  so  often 
happens,  this  sheet  becomes  detached  from  the  binding 
and  falls  out  whenever  the  book  is  opened. 

Much  of  the  pleasure  otherwise  to  be  derived  from 
books  printed  in  the  three-colour  process  is  frittered 
away  on  this  account,  or  by  the  nuisance  of  tissue 
paper  ; but  where  the  print  has  been  only  partially 
affixed  to  a brown  paper  mount,  and  tissue  paper  also 
added,  there  is  so  complex  a tangle  of  impediments  to 

206 


COLOURED  ILLUSTRATIONS  & “ MAKE-UP  ” 
enjoyment  that  it  says  much  for  the  artist  if  his  work 
survives  as  a pleasure  to  the  book  lover. 

Collotype  and  half-tone  reproduction 

If  it  is  necessary  to  introduce  pages  of  tone  drawings 
independently  into  a work,  collotype  will  be  found  to 
yield  more  artistic  results  than  half-tones,  if  this  can 
be  arranged  for,  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  use  the  so-called  “ Art  ” paper,  with 
its  horrible  surface,  its  blazing  whiteness,  its  “ crack- 
ability  ” on  account  of  the  amount  of  clay  it  contains, 
being  more  of  a tile  than  a sheet  of  paper,  and  its  pon- 
derosity. Even  this  does  not  exhaust  the  list  of  dis- 
advantages of  this  paper;  for  if  a book,  magazine  or 
newspaper  composed  of  this  paper  is  allowed  to  get 
damp,  it  forms  an  almost  solid  brick  ; this  has  been 
known  to  happen  to  a whole  cupboardful. 

The  other  advantage  of  collotype  is  that  it  has  not 
the  mechanical  dots  and  squares  of  a half-tone  block 
that  are  so  irritating  to  all  but  those  who  cannot  see 
them. 

The  lights  of  a collotype  are  clearer  than  those  of  a 
half-tone,  and  its  gradations  more  delicate,  and  in  certain 
cases  it  is  hardly  distinguishable  from  an  original  draw- 
ing. This  last  can  never  be  said  of  a half-tone  repro- 
duction. 


207 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


AUTHORS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  literary  man,  and  even  editors  sometimes, 
have  strange  notions  of  what  is  proper  to  the 
illustrator’s  function.  It  is  an  authentic  fact 
that  a well-known  editor  commissioned  an  artist  to 
make  a drawing  “ showing  the  British  Possessions  all 
round  the  globe  by  leaving  out  the  shadows.” 

Dickens,  as  is  well  known,  set  great  store  by  the 
illustrations  of  his  novels,  and  perhaps  this  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  since  the  Pickwick  Papers  were  begun  as 
letterpress  to  accompany  drawings  ; though  this  pro- 
cess was  soon  reversed.  This  method  of  writing  up  to 
drawings  rather  than  making  drawings  to  illustrate  a 
text  seems  to  have  been  fairly  general  until  well  into 
the  ’Sixties. 

In  Pendennis  we  are  told  that  Percy  Popjoy  had 
written  some  verses  to  illustrate  one  of  the  pictures 
which  was  called  the  “Church  Porch.”  A Spanish  damsel 
was  hastening  to  church  with  a large  prayer  book  ; a 
youth  hidden  in  a niche  was  watching  this  young  woman. 
The  picture  was  pretty,  but  the  great  genius  of  Percy 
Popjoy  had  deserted  him,  for  he  had  made  the  most 
execrable  verses  which  were  ever  perpetrated  by  a young 
nobleman.  Pendennis  tries  his  hand,  on  Warrington’s 
advice,  and  turns  out  Thackeray’s  prettiest  verses  to 
the  plate.  Thackeray  doubtless  invented  the  occasion  to 
work  in  the  verses,  but  it  appears  to  have  been  a common 
practice  to  write  up  to  the  illustrations. 

208 


AUTHORS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


No.  88.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  “The  Ladies  Window  in  the  New  York 
Post  Office,”  from  “Graphic  America.” 

Curiously  dramatic  vision  of  an  everyday  occurrence. 

In  A Round  of  Days  (1866),  in  the  Advertisement ^ 
the  Brothers  Dalziel  say  : “ In  some  cases  the  Artist 
has  illustrated  the  Author’s  poem  ; in  others  the 
Authors  have  shown  themselves  willing  to  portray  in 
words  the  ideas  conveyed  in  the  Artist’s  original 
Designs.” 


209 


P 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

Among  the  writers  who  have  obviously  “ written 
up  to  ” the  illustrations  are  Frederick  Locker,  Tom 
Taylor,  and,  I am  inclined  to  think,  Robert  Buchanan, 
in  a list  that  includes  also  Christina  Rossetti,  William 
Allingham,  George  Macdonald,  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Norton, 
and  Tom  Hood. 

A famous  case  of  a picture  inspiring  verses  was  that 
of  Whistler’s  “ Little  White  Girl,”  to  which  Swinburne 
was  moved  to  write  : 

“ White  Rose  in  Red  rose  Garden 
Is  not  so  white.” 

which  is  interesting  in  so  much  as  Whistler  in  the  few 
drawings  he  made  for  illustrative  purposes  paid  scant 
attention  to  the  letterpress,  and  had  as  little  to  do  with 
any  extraneous  interest  as  possible  in  all  his  art. 

At  present  the  usual  course  is  for  the  Art  Editor  to 
hand  over  the  MS.  of  a story  to  an  artist  whose  work 
he  regards  as  likely  to  be  appropriate,  leaving  the 
selection  of  subjects  to  him,  but  giving  any  necessary 
information  as  to  the  space  allotted  and  the  time  allowed. 
Drawings  are  not  generally  “ written  up  to  ” unless 
they  are  of  a topical  or  seasonal  character,  nor  are  they 
often  accepted  simply  for  their  intrinsic  interest.  The 
Yellow  Book  had  the  idea  of  endeavouring  to  change 
this  by  printing  drawings  independently  of  text,  but 
not  many  were  drawn  specially,  artists  using  the  quar- 
terly rather  as  a vehicle,  much  of  the  work  published, 
with  the  exception  of  Beardsley’s  own,  being  from 
pictures,  etchings  or  studies  not  primarily  intended 
for  reproduction  at  all,  and  the  same  was  the  case  with 
The  Savoy.  The  idea  was  excellent,  and  it  is  a pity  that 


210 


^P^'AUTHORS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

it  is  not  more  acted  upon.  We  have  no  publication  at 
the  present  time  with  the  spacious  dignity  of  the  Port- 
folio, under  P.  G.  Hamerton,  in  spite  of  the  compara- 
tive cheapness  of  modern  methods  of  printing,  paper 
and  reproduction,  compared  with  those  in  vogue  in 
Hamerton’s  time. 


2II 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


TRANSITIONAL  TIMES  AND  OPINIONS 


HE  ’nineties  was  a time  of  rapid  transition 


from  an  order  that  seemed  to  have  set  in  like  a 


wet  night  after  a summer  afternoon.  The  great 


Victorians,  such  as  survived,  had  outlived  their  work  ; 
but  they  still  cast  a shadow  over  their  descendants  so 
that  these  seemed  to  belong  to  a smaller  generation. 

Meredith  and  Hardy  did  not  come  into  their  own 
out  of  the  shadow  of  the  names  of  Dickens  and  Thack- 
eray till  then.  Even  Hardy  had  felt  himself  compelled 
out  of  deference  to  the  public  opinion  of  the  time,  as 
expressed  by  the  Editor  of  the  Graphic,  if  not  to  make 
a happy  ending,  at  least  to  modify  it,  on  the  serial 
appearance  of  “ Tess.”  Kipling  had  a stiff  battle  to 
fight  against  the  ridicule  of  the  elder  men  ; and  he 
also  had  the  same  experience  as  Hardy  with  “ The 
Light  that  Failed  ” on  its  appearance  in  serial  form. 
Serious  art  that  aimed  at  something  more  than  simple 
entertainment  or  at  showing  life  as  anything  but  a 
smugly  pleasant  undertaking  ending  only  in  a beautiful 
death-bed  scene  was  still  supposed  to  show  “ tenden- 
cies ” better  suppressed. 

It  is  somewhat  sad,  in  going  through  the  illustrated 
journals  and  magazines  of  the  time,  to  remember  and 
realize  how  much  nerve  and  effort  went  to  produce  so 
much  grey  futility,  particularly  in  the  way  of  news 
supply,  that  is  so  much  better  done  in  every  way  now 


212 


TRANSITIONAL  TIMES  AND  OPINIONS 


No.  89.  A.  Boyd  Houghton.  “The  Tombs,”  from  “Graphic  America." 
Shows  his  sense  of  solidity  of  form,  unobscured  by  vivid  use  of 
significant  texture. 

simply  by  turning  a handle,  leaving  the  artist  free  to 
devote  his  time  and  thought  to  the  production  of  things 
other  than  the  mere  making  of  records.  By  their 

213 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
exactness  of  observation  and  their  skill  in  setting  it  down 
they  had  anticipated  the  later  triumph  of  the  camera 
and  the  cinema,  which  is  now  catching  up  and  passing 
the  artist  who  saw  no  higher  aim  than  the  making  of 
an  exact  record  of  appearances,  and  who  was  hailed  by 
the  public  as  successful  in  exact  proportion  as  his  art 
approached  the  deceptive,  like  the  policeman  in  wax 
at  Madame  Tussaud’s. 

It  is  strange  to  think  that  Whistler’s  work  and  not 
the  wax  policeman  had  till  that  time  been  resented  as 
a practical  joke  by  the  public.  In  one  case,  they  were 
deceived,  and  loved  the  deception  : in  the  other  they 
were  annoyed  because  there  was  no  attempt  at  decep- 
tion. They  did  quite  honestly  look  upon  deception  as 
the  highest  function  of  the  artist,  and  blamed  the 
artist  for  their  own  defect  of  vision.  It  was  apparently 
a difficult  time  for  the  artist  to  be  born  into. 

The  attitude  of  the  typical  Victorian  towards  Im- 
pressionism was  as  antipathetic  as  that  of  later  days 
towards  Post-Impressionism,  Futurism  and  Cubism, 
and  can  be  illustrated  by  a true  story. 

Dr.  Hislop  had  read  a paper  and  shown  slides  at  the 
Art  Workers’  Guild  at  Clifford’s  Inn  Hall  upon  “ The 
Art  of  the  Insane,”  about  the  time  of  the  exhibition  of 
Post-Impressionist  Art  at  the  Grafton  Galleries,  and  in 
the  discussion  following  the  two  subjects  were  as 
thoroughly  twisted  into  one  as  the  strands  of  a cord, 
as  though  lunatic  and  Post-Impressionist  were  inter- 
changeable terms.  The  Master  of  the  Guild  called  upon 
Mr.  J.  W.  North,  one  of  the  few  survivors  of  the  illus- 
trators of  the  ’sixties.  The  back  of  my  chair  was  gripped, 
and,  turning  round,  I saw  the  venerable  white  hair  and 


214 


TRANSITIONAL  TIMES  AND  OPINIONS 
beard  of  the  old  artist  as  he  dragged  himself  up  and 
bent  fors\'ard,  his  pink  face  blazing  to  crimson.  “ Sir,” 
he  began  slowly,  “ I — think— I— had — better  not  trust 
myself  to  speak  on  this  subject  ” — all  the  latter  part 


No.  90.  Charles  Keene.  From  “Punch.”  Wood  engraving. 
Characteristically  expresses  light  and  air  in  black  and  white  in  a manner 
unattempted  before  and  unsurpassed  since. 


of  the  sentence  coming  out  in  one,  like  a single  word  of 
many  syllables.  As  the  Guild  trooped  out  and  down  the 
old  hall  stairs  I ventured  my  arm  through  his,  and 
said  : “ Now,  Sir — will  you  tell  me  what  you  would 
have  said  if  you  had  ventured  to  speak  upon  the  sub- 
ject ? ” “ My  dear  boy,”  he  replied,  “ the  poor  men 
who  did  this  work  were  insane,  and  ought  to  have  been 
locked  up,  but  ” — and  here  we  started  going  down 
the  stairs,  and  the  words  came  emphasized  by  every 

215 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

step,  “ the  men — who  got  up — this  show — ^were  sane 
and  ought  to  be — shot  ! ” And  he  meant  it. 

The  air  of  the  whole  art  world  had  become  so  stag- 
nant that  a good  draught  was  needed  to  enliven  it  again, 
and  nothing  for  many  years  had  so  much  effect  in 
London  as  the  incursion  of  the  Futurists,  the  Cubists, 
and  the  Post-Impressionists.  The  way  had  been  pre- 
pared for  them,  so  far  as  the  Press  was  concerned,  by 
Whistler,  who  even  until  about  1890  was  the  general 
laughing-stock.  W.  L.  Thomas  at  the  “ coming  of  age  ” 
dinner  of  the  Graphic , speaking  of  the  new  venture. 
The  Daily  Graphic,  and  of  the  young  lion-cubs  upon 
it,  said  that  what  it  was  proposed  to  put  steadily  before 
the  public  was  “ None  of  your  Whistler  ‘ effects,’  ” 
and  there  was  unspeakable  scorn  in  the  accent  on 
“ effects,”  “ but  good,  honest  pen  and  ink,”  at  which 
there  was  loud  applause.  At  Christies’  would  be  heard 
laughter  and  hisses  when  his  works  were  put  up — 
possibly  organized  by  interested  persons  who  could 
pick  up  “ bargains  ” for  a few  guineas,  works  after- 
wards worth  hundreds  or  thousands. 


216 


CHAPTER  XXX 


TRUTH  TO  LIFE 

NO  matter  how  untrue  to  life  a story  may  be,  the 
artist  can  dismiss  this  from  his  mind,  and  treat 
the  characters  as  realities,  not  as  puppets  ; put 
life  into  them  and  contrive  at  least  to  give  a picture  of  the 
period.  There  is  a general  lack  of  liveliness  in  our  books 
and  magazines  as  though  the  life  of  Britain  supplied 
hardly  more  than  two  or  three  stock  types  of  a theatri- 
cal order.  Sometimes  the  impression  is  conveyed  that 
the  artist  has  thought  it  more  important  to  render  the 
crease  in  the  trousers  impeccably  than  the  character 
of  the  young  hero  who  wears  them.  The  heroines  are 
lacking  in  flesh  and  blood,  and  are  often  too  concerned 
about  being  “ ladylike  ” to  be  ladies.  Our  represen- 
tation of  foreigners  must  frequently  be  a source  of 
irritation  to  them  ; our  Frenchmen  and  Americans  are 
more  absurdly  unlike  than  are  the  stock  presentations 
of  the  “ Englishman  ” by  French  and  American  artists. 
The  Irishman  is  still  drawn  in  knee-breeches,  with  a 
pipe  in  his  caubeen  and  a shillelagh  sticking  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  with  a face  like  a monkey.  As  great  a 
travesty  is  frequently  served  up  of  Scottish  life. 

No  further  away  than  Hyde  Park  and  Kensington 
Gardens  Mr.  Punch  would  have  us  believe  that  any 
lady  of  distinction  has  a proportionate  height  of  eight, 
nine,  or  ten  heads  ; and  that  London  Society,  appar- 
ently by  lack  of  thought,  has  succeeded  in  adding  two 
or  three  cubits  to  its  stature. 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
The  Countryman  is  frequently  drawn  simply  as  a 
townsman  wearing  his  clothes  badly,  rather  than 
marked  by  any  searched-for  characteristic. 


A milk-and-watery  idealism  has  affected  almost  all 


" NO  ACCOUNTING  FOB  TASTE." 


Unln/nwihaa  {juH  arruitd  at  Chiidreri  had  dmen  a Monlh  bt/ort).  " BAV*  TOO  FOCVD  ft  Dcivt* 

Ai-TW  ••  It  W4B  4T  FT4-T.  M'«  TeERI  WAfl  )!CnHi;«E  TO  IltPEOVB  THE  MiMD,  M’M,  TIIA  THE  NfOQXM  0O«  DOWH  I I" 

No.  91.  Charles  Keene.  From  “Punch.’*  Notable  for  the  art  and 
artifice  employed  in  detaching  one  group  from  another, 

our  efforts  at  the  presentation  of  virtuous  womankind?; 
we  are  given  a sort  of  anaemic  prettiness  ; of  other 
womankind  the  presentation  is  generally  vulgar,  as 
though  to  represent  vulgarity  it  were  necessary  to 
draw  vulgarly. 

The  illustrator  lives  too  much  in  the  studio.  It  is  not 
meant  that  he  spends  too  much  time  there,  but  that  he 
does  not  carry  the  illustrator  part  of  himself  abroad 
sufficiently  to  see  the  people  and  the  sights.  Trollope 
said  of  Thackeray  that  he  became  lazy  as  he  grew  older, 
explaining  that  he  meant,  not  that  he  didn’t  work  as 

218 


TRUTH  TO  LIFE 

hard  at  his  desk  as  he  had  done,  but  that  he  didn’t 
perpetually  live  with  his  characters.  It  is  probable  that 
much  of  the  strength  of  Renouard’s  work  in  England, 
Ireland,  and  America  arose  from  the  fact  that  he  had 


No.  92.  Phil  May.  From  “The  Parson  and  the  Painter.” 
Direct  “process”  block. 


to  live  by  his  eye  so  largely,  as  he  spoke  little  or  no 
English,  and  that  it  was  thus  only  by  the  significance 
of  types  and  appearances  that  a subject  could  make  its 
appeal  to  him.  Having  no  “ parti-pris  ” he  did  not  see 
what  he  went  out  to  see,  but  what  was  there,  with  the 
result  that  he  gave  us  a true  and  emphatic  vision  of 
life,  arrived  at  not  by  means  of  caricature,  but  by  care- 
ful selection  and  isolation  of  character.  Each  individual 
is  a type,  from  his  hat  to  his  boots — even  his  clothes 

219 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
being  characteristic  of,  and  so  part  of  the  man ; and 
not,  as  is  generally  the  case  with  an  academy  portrait, 
the  clothes  worn  by  a model,  the  head  alone  being 
characterized. 

Where  decoration  is  the  primary  aim  intensity  of 
characterisation  is  not  so  necessary,  and  a rhythmic 
style  may  be  adopted  if  in  harmony  with  the  subject. 
It  is  possible  to  imagine  Beardsley’s  drawings  in  con- 
nection with  Swinburne’s  verse,  while  Diirer  would 
seem  halting  and  out  of  step.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
style  of  Beardsley’s  drawings  would  have  been  entirely 
out  of  keeping  with  Walt  Whitman’s  rough-hewn 
verse,  while  Diirer’s  forcible  and  spondaic  method  of 
characterisation  would  march  with  the  same  deter- 
mined tread,  and  carry  as  much  weight  of  content — 
or  rather,  more,  from  being  packed  in  a more  orderly 
manner — Whitman  carrying  his  belongings  strung 
about  him  after  the  manner  of  a tramp. 


220 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


BLAKE  ON  IMAGINATION 

The  popular  idea  of  imagination  is  of  something 
vague,  undefined  and  illogical,  generally  associ- 
ated with  stars,  clouds,  and  rainbows,  or  the 
sticking  of  a pair  of  goose-wings  on  a pretty  girl  in 
white  and  calling  the  result  an  angel.  This  is  a mistake. 
Imagination  is  not  wool-gathering,  but  is  a clear-minded 
and  rational  act,  even  though  it  may  sometimes  proceed 
by  logarithm,  so  that  it  hops  from  a point  of  solid 
ground  in  a parabolic  curve  back  to  earth  again  in  one 
burst  of  explosive  energy  instead  of  slowly  pacing  out 
the  distance,  leaving  no  traces  of  its  flight. 

No  man  more  imaginative  than  Blake  ever  breathed, 
so  that  what  he  has  to  say  upon  the  subject  must  have 
the  highest  value.  What  he  set  most  store  upon  was 
definition  ; and,  no  matter  how  indefinite  his  draw- 
ings may  appear,  there  is  no  lack  of  lucidity  or  pre- 
cision in  his  critical  pronouncements.  Following  are 
some  extracts,  upon  which  comment  is  hardly  neces- 
sary : 

“ Art  and  Science  cannot  exist  but  in  minutely 
organized  particulars  ” (Gilchrist,  235). 

“ All  that  has  existed  in  the  space  of  six  thousand  years 
Permanent  and  not  lost  : not  lost  nor  vanished,  etc., 
mere  possibilities. 

But,  to  those  who  enter  into  them,  they  seem  the  only 
realities 


221 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
For  everything  exists  ; and  not  one  sigh  nor  smile, 
nor  tear, 

One  hair  nor  particle  of  dust — not  one  can  pass 
away.” 


No.  93.  Phil  May.  From  “ The  Parson  and  the  Painter.” 

These  drawings  are  remarkable  as  expressing  in  addition  to  character 
and  movement,  extraordinary  detachment  of  groups  in  pure  line,  by 
means  of  perspective  and  slight  variations  of  force. 

A passage  that  might  have  suggested  the  core  of 
Browning’s  “ Abt  Vogler,”  and  later  : 

“For  all  things  exist  in  the  human  imagination  ” 
(Gilchrist,  237). 


222 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
This  line,  Gilchrist  says,  “ deserves  to  be  called  the 
corner-stone  of  Blake’s  philosophy.”  . . . “ Amid  all 
contradictions,  incoherences,  wild  assertions,  this  prin- 
ciple— that  the  conceptions  of  the  mind  are  the  reality 
of  realities,  that  the  human  imagination  is  an  eternal 
world,  ‘ ever  expanding  in  the  bosom  of  God,’ — 
shines  steadily  forth  ” (Gilchrist,  Vol.  I,  p.  237-8). 

With  his  fervid,  dauntless  imagination  the  artist 
seized  hold  of  the  metaphysician’s  (Berkeley’s)  theory 
of  Idealism,  and  strove  to  quicken  it  into  a grand  poetic 
Cosmos. 

Writing  of  a child’s  drawings  he  says  : “ They  are 
all  firm,  determinate  outline,  or  identical  form.  Had 
the  hand  which  executed  these  little  ideas  been  that  of 
a plagiary  who  works  only  from  the  memory  we  should 
have  seen  blots,  called  masses — blots  without  form, 
and  therefore  without  meaning.  These  blots  of  light 
and  dark,  as  being  the  result  of  labour,  are  always 
clumsy  and  indefinite  ; the  effect  of  rubbing  out  and 
putting  in  ; like  the  progress  of  a blind  man,  or  one  in 
the  dark,  who  feels  his  way,  but  does  not  see  it.  . . . 
Even  the  copy  from  Raphael’s  cartoon  ...  is  a firm, 
determinate  outline,  struck  at  once,  as  Protogenes 
struck  his  line  when  he  went  to  make  himself  known 
to  Apelles.  The  map  of  Allestone  has  the  same  charac- 
ter of  the  firm  and  the  determinate.  All  his  efforts 
prove  this  little  boy  to  have  had  that  greatest  of  all 
blessings,  a strong  imagination,  a clear  idea,  and  a 
determinate  vision  of  things  in  his  own  mind.” 

In  his  notes  on  “ The  Spiritual  Form  of  Nelson  guid- 
ing Leviathan,  in  whose  wreathings  are  infolded  the 
Nations  of  the  Earth,”  he  says  : 

223 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

“ Clearness  and  precision  have  been  the  chief  objects 
in  painting  these  pictures. 

“ Clear  colours,  unmudded  by  oil,  and  firm  and 
determined  lineaments  unbroken  by  shadows  which 
oughfto  display  and  not  to  hide  form,  as  is  the  practice 
of  the  later  schools  of  Italy  and  Flanders  (Gilchrist, 
Vol.  II,  p.  139). 

“ Reasons  and  opinions  concerning  acts  are  not 
history  ; acts  themselves  alone  are  history — Tell  me 
the  Acts,  O historian,  and  leave  me  to  reason  upon 
them  as  I please  ; away  with  your  reasoning  and  your 
rubbish  ! All  that  is  not  action  is  not  worth  reading. 
Tell  me  the  What  ; I do  not  want  you  to  tell  me  the 
Why  and  the  How  (Gilchrist  II,  p.  155). 

“ Correggio  infuses  a love  of  soft  and  even  tints 
without  boundaries,  and  of  endless  reflected  lights, 
that  confuse  one  another  and  hinder  all  correct 
drawing  from  appearing  to  be  correct ; for  if  one  of 
Raphael’s  or  Michael  Angelo’s  figures  was  to  be  traced 
and  Correggio’s  reflections  and  refractions  to  be  added 
to  it,  there  would  soon  be  an  end  to  proportion  and 
strength,  and  it  would  be  weak  and  pappy  and  lumber- 
ing and  thick-headed  like  his  own  works  ; but  then  it 
would  have  softness  and  evenness,  by  a twelve-month’s 
labour,  where  a month  would  with  judgment  have 
finished  it  better  and  higher  (Gilchrist,  II,  160). 

“ The  distinction  that  is  made  in  modern  times 
between  a painting  and  a drawing  proceeds  from  ignor- 
ance of  art.  The  merit  of  a picture  is  the  same  as  the 
merit  of  a drawing.  The  dauber  daubs  his  drawings  ; 
he  who  draws  his  drawings  draws  his  pictures.  . . .If 
losing  and  obliterating  the  outline  constitutes  a picture, 

224 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


No.  94.  Phil  May.  From  “The  Parson  and  the  Painter.” 
Direct  process  block  for  rough  printing. 


Mr.  B.  will  never  be  so  foolish  as  to  do  one.  Such  art 
of  losing  the  outline  is  the  art  of  Venice  and  Flanders  ; 
it  loses  all  character  and  leaves  what  some  people  call 
expression,  but  this  is  a false  notion  of  expression  ; 

225 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
expression  cannot  exist  without  character  as  its  stamina, 
and  neither  character  nor  expression  can  exist  without 
firm  and  determinate  outline.  . . . 

“ The  great  and  golden  rule  of  art,  as  well  as  of  life, 
is  this  : that  the  more  distinct,  sharp,  and  wiry  the 
bounding  line,  the  more  perfect  the  work  of  art  ; and 
the  less  keen  and  sharp,  the  greater  is  the  evidence  of 
weak  imitation,  plagiarism  and  bungling.  Great  in- 
ventors, in  all  ages,  knew  this  : Protogenes  and  Apelles 
knew  each  other  by  this  line.  Raphael  and  Michael 
Angelo,  and  Albrecht  Diirer,  are  known  by  this  alone. 
The  want  of  this  determinate  and  bounding  form 
evidences  the  idea  of  want  (.?  want  of  idea)  in  the  artist’s 
mind,  and  the  pretence  of  the  plagiary  in  all  its  branches. 
How  do  we  distinguish  the  oak  from  the  beech  ? the 
horse  from  the  ox,  but  by  the  bounding  outline  ? How 
do  we  distinguish  one  face  or  countenance  from  another, 
but  by  the  bounding  line  and  its  infinite  inflections  and 
movements  ? What  is  it  that  builds  a house  and  plants 
a garden  but  the  definite  and  determinate  ? What  is  it 
that  distinguishes  honesty  from  knavery,  but  the  hard 
and  wiry  line  of  rectitude  and  certainty  in  the  actions 
and  intentions  ? Leave  out  this  line  and  you  leave  out 
life  itself ; it  is  all  chaos  again,  and  the  line  of  the 
Almighty  must  be  drawn  out  upon  it  before  man  or 
beast  can  exist  ” (Gilchrist,  II,  162). 

“ To  imitate  I abhor,  I obstinately  adhere  to  the 
true  style  of  art,  such  as  Michael  Angelo,  Raphael, 
Giulio  Romano,  Albert  Diirer  left  it  ” (Gilchrist,  II,  167), 

“ I have  heard  many  people  say  ‘ Give  me  the  ideas 
— it  is  no  matter  what  words  you  put  them  into  ’ ; and 
others  say,  ‘ Give  me  the  design,  it  is  no  matter  for  the 

226 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


A Sw^LU. 


No.  95.  Phil  May.  From  “Guttersnipes.”  Direct  process  block. 

Makes  its  own  point,  as  usual  with  him. 

execution.’  These  people  knew  enough  of  artifice,  but 
nothingof  art.  Ideas  cannot  be  given  but  in  their  minute- 
ly appropriate  words,  nor  can  a design  be  made  without 
its  minutely  appropriate  execution.  . . . Execution  is 

• 227 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

only  the  result  of  invention.  I do  not  condemn  Rubens, 
Rembrandt, or  Titian  because  they  did  not  understand 
drawing,  but  because  they  did  not  understand  colour- 
ing. ...  I do  not  condemn  Pope  or  Dryden  because 
they  did  not  understand  imagination,  but  because  they 
did  not  understand  verse.  Their  colouring,' graving 
and  verse  can  never  be  applied  to  art  ; that  is  not  either 
colouring  ...  or  verse  which  is  inappropriate  to  the 
subject.  . . . 

“ They  say  there  is  no  straight  line  in  Nature.  This 
is  a lie.  . . . for  there  is  every  line  in  Nature  ” (Gil- 
christ, II,  169). 

“ The  life’s  labour  of  mental  weakness  scarcely 
equals  one  hour  of  the  labour  of  ordinary  capacity,  like 
the  full  gallop  of  the  gouty  man  to  the  ordinary  walk 
of  youth  and  health  ” (Gilchrist,  II,  170). 

“ . . . . He  who  pretends  to  be  either  painter  or 
engraver  without  being  a master  of  drawing  is  an  im- 
postor. We  may  be  clever  as  pugilists,  but  as  artists  we 
are,  and  have  long  been,  the  contempt  of  the  Continent. 
Gravelot  once  said  to  my  master  Basire  ; ‘ De  English 
may  be  very  clever  in  their  own  opinions,  but  dey  do 
not  draw  de  draw’”  (Gilchrist,  II,  171). 

“ . . . most  Englishmen  have  a contempt  for  art, 
which  is  the  greatest  curse  that  can  fall  upon  a nation  ” 
(Gilchrist,  II,  172). 

“ Men  think  that  they  can  copy  nature  as  correctly 
as  I copy  imagination.  . . . Why  are  copies  of  nature 
incorrect,  while  copies  of  imagination  are  correct 
This  is  manifest  to  all.  . . .A  man  sets  himself  down 
with  colours,  and  with  all  the  articles  of  painting  ; he 
puts  a tnodel  before  him,  and  he  copies  that  so  neat  as  to 

228 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTR.4TION 


OfiRliiit  and  Re.- N/oi- ( ( D£-taiu3_  Sm\  • 


No.  96.  Phil  May.  From  “Guttersnipes.” 

Full  ofjcharacter  and  “go,”  and  artfully  arranged  “colour”  scheme. 

make  it  a deception Is  this  art  ? ...  Who 

could  not  do  this  ? . . . anybody  may  do  it,  and  the 
fool  will  often  do  it  best,  as  it  is  a work  of  no  mind  ” 
(Gilchrist,  II,  173). 


229 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
...  he  who  thinks  he  can  engrave  or  paint 
either  without  being  a master  of  drawing  is  a fool. 
Painting  is  drawing  on  canvas,  and  engraving  is  draw- 
ing on  copper,  and  nothing  else.  Drawing  is  execution 
and  nothing  else  ; and  he  who  draws  best  must  be  the 
best  artist.  And  to  this  I subscribe  my  name  as  a public 
duty.  William  Blake.”  (Gilchrist,  II,  177). 

“ Error  is  created,  truth  is  eternal.  Error  or  creation 
will  be  burnt  up,  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  truth  or 
eternity  will  appear.  It  is  burnt  up  the  moment  men 
cease  to  behold  it.  I assert,  for  myself,  that  I do  not 
behold  the  outward  creation,  and  that  to  me  it  is  hind- 
rance, and  not  action.  ‘ What  ! ’ it  will  be  questioned, 
‘ when  the  sun  rises,  do  you  not  see  a round  disk  of 
fire,  somewhat  like  a guinea  ! ’ ‘ Oh  ! no,  no  ! I see  an 
innumerable  company  of  the  heavenly  host,  crying, 

‘ Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  God  Almighty  ! ’ I 
question  not  my  corporeal  eye  any  more  than  I would 
question  a window  concerning  a sight.  I look  through 
it  and  am  not  with  it  ” (Gilchrist,  II,  200). 

In  more  than  one  place  he  mentions  Hogarth  with  a 
high  but  qualified  approval  : “ Even  ” Hogarth  occurs 
at  least  twice. 

“ In  the  art  of  painting  these  impostors  sedulously 
propagate  an  opinion  that  inventors  cannot  execute. 
This  opinion  is  as  destructive  of  the  true  artist  as  it  is 
false  by  all  experience.  Even  Hogarth  cannot  be  either 
copied  or  improved.  Can  Anglus  never  discern  per- 
fection but  in  a journeyman  labourer  ? ” (Gilchrist,  II 
176). 


230 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
“ O dear  mother  Outline,  of  wisdom  most  sage 
What’s  the  first  part  of  painting  ? She  said  : ‘ Pat- 
ronage.’ 

And  what  is  the  second  to  please  and  engage  } 

She  frowned  like  a fury,  and  said  : ‘ Patronage.’ 
And  what  is  the  third  ? She  put  off  old  age. 

And  smiled  like  a Syren,  and  said  ‘ Patronage.’  ” 

(Gilchrist,  II,  132). 

A common  error  to  be  controverted  is  that  which 
looks  upon  pen  drawing  as  “ sketching  ” — in  the  sense 
of  something  slight  and  unfinished  that  an  artist  simply 
“ knocks  off.”  While,  of  course,  there  is  no  desire  to 
magnify  its  difficulties  or  to  claim  any  undue  consider- 
ation of  it  as  a craft  or  mystery,  a too  light-hearted  view 
of  it  either  by  artists  or  the  public  does  harm  to  both. 
Three  of  the  most  original  artists  England  has  pro- 
duced devoted  their  lives  entirely  to  pen  drawing— 
Charles  Keene,  Phil  May,  and  Beardsley.  Yet  all  took 
the  work  itself  with  great  seriousness,  with  the  result 
that  it  will  outlive  the  greater  bulk  of  the  much  more 
pretentious  work  on  canvas  of  their  period  ; and  will 
always  give  pleasure  not  for  its  humour  or  content 
alone,  nor  as  giving  a wide  outlook  upon  the  world  of 
their  time,  but  by  its  intrinsic  artistic  qualities. 


231 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


EMOTIONAL  QUALITY  OF  VISION 

A CONSIDERATION  that  comes  into  the  ques- 
tion of  the  content,  as  apart  from  the  actual 
style  and  accent  with  which  it  is  set  forth,  is 
how  near  it  comes  to  the  artist’s  own  preoccupations. 
His  setting  out  of  this  is  likely  to  be  passionate  or 
impersonal  in  exact  proportion  to  these  preoccupations, 
and  the  artistic  value  of  his  work  will  depend  largely 
upon  the  quality  of  this  interest. 

I remember  seeing  a painting  by  a policeman  of  his 
little  kitchen  sitting-room,  with  his  wife  attending  to 
the  cooking-range,  where  there  was  very  little  know- 
ledge of  craftsmanship,  but  a great  deal  of  passionate 
devotion  to  the  unlovely  objects.  The  light  on  the 
varnished  tile  paper,  the  rows  of  cups  on  the  dresser, 
the  horrible  cooking-range,  and  all  the  still-life  of  the 
place  were  in  a simple  way  exquisite — and  a certain 
unity  was  preserved  by  the  simplicity  of  vision  and 
patient  consistency  with  which  they  had  been  repre- 
sented. His  skill  had  broken  down  with  the  figure  ; but 
yet,  the  picture  had  a strange  quality  of  naivete  that  a 
more  expert  craftsman  might  have  lost  ; would  have 
lost  indeed,  unless  he  could  recapture  the  emotional 
quality  such  as  Millais  as  a young  man  was  capable  of 
imparting  to  his  rendering  of  fact. 

There  is  indeed  some  quality  of  interest  that  is  be- 
yond the  accurate  and  skilful  presentation  of  facts. 

232 


No.  97.  Leandre.  A master  of  caricature.  From  Le  Rire. 
Direct  process  block  from  chalk  drawing. 


233 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

Whereas  some  will  delight  in  their  presentation  (Meis- 
sonier,  Menzel  and  William  Small  being  good  in- 
stances) who  yet  never  reach  beyond  a matter-of-fact 
re-statement,  there  are  others  whose  record  could  not 
be  compared  technically,  yet  which  goes  far  beyond  in 
some  unanalysable  quality  of  emotional  intensity.  If, 
for  instance,  the  policeman  had  had  a streaky  marble 
mantel-piece  in  his  horrible  parlour,  and  had  painted 
it,  it  is  likely  that  his  picture  would  have  expressed  an 
emotional  value  beyond  Tadema.  Why  is  this  ? It  is 
the  difference  between  a man  and  a machine,  between 
art  and  craft.  To  carry  out  a work  of  art.  Virtue  must 
go  out  of  the  artist  to  inform  his  craftsmanship,  whereas 
virtue  does  not  issue  from  a machine,  or  from  crafts- 
manship alone. 

Art  is  like  the  involuntary  muscles,  and  is  in  spite  of 
us — succeeds  or  fails  independently  of  will — but  never- 
theless responds  to  certain  stimuli.  If  Art  or  Poetry 
could  be  taught,  there  is  not  an  artist  nor  a poet  alive 
who  would  not  give  it  up,  and  play  spillikins. 


234 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


GREAT  LITERATURE  NOT  NECESSARILY 
MORE  INSPIRING  THAN  POOR 

IT  should  be  realized  that  Shakespeare’s  plays  offer 
no  finer  opportunities  to  the  illustrator  than  any 
other  work  of  a dramatic  character.  It  is  true  that  in 
practice  an  illustrator  finds  stimulus  to  his  art  from  his 
enjoyment  of  particular  authors  or  passages.  He  may 
have  a penchant  for  costume  of  a certain  period,  or  for 
a particular  type  of  character  ; but  if  his  literary  sense 
should  lead  him  into  an  endeavour  to  parallel  what  is 
after  all  the  particular  property  of  literature — the 
glamour  and  magic  of  words,  he  will  certainly  find  one 
of  two  things — that  he  will  fail ; or,  if  he  succeeds, 
that  he  is  a genius ; for  the  glamour  and  the  magic  of 
the  words  will  have  to  be  translated  not  only  from  one 
language  into  another  ; but  from  one  art  to  another  ; 
an  art,  moreover,  which,  being  static,  is  less  allied 
with  literature  than  are  music,  acting,  and  dancing. 

The  illustrator,  as  such,  has  little  to  do  with  the  good- 
ness or  badness  of  the  writer’s  work,  though  naturally 
he  prefers  a worthy  author  ; but  this  apart,  the  silliest 
magazine  story  may  provide  as  good  materials  for  illus- 
tration as  Shakespeare’s  plays. 

In  the  realm  of  ideas  things  are  different.  The  quality 
of  the  ideas  suggested  by  the  writer  is  variable,  and  a 
silly  or  limited  idea  is  hardly  likely  to  call  forth  a 
passionate  adherence  or  co-operation  on  the  part  of  the 
illustrator. 


2.35 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
Heads  and  hands 

It  is  good  to  remember  that,  no  matter  how  poor  and 
silly  a little  love  story  may  be,  no  draughtsman  should 
complain  of  a lack  of  opportunity  for  expression  who 
has  a head  and  a hand  to  draw.  If  the  story  suggests  an 
interesting  situation  in  which  these  may  be  employed 
in  action,  with  some  appropriate  setting,  an  illustrator 
should  require  no  more  than  this  to  set  all  his  powers 
of  invention  and  execution  into  full  action.  Hands  are 
as  full  of  character  and  show  as  great  a variety  of  ex- 
pression as  faces,  telling  as  much  the  story  of  a human 
life  in  heredity  and  circumstances  as  eyes,  nose,  mouth, 
chin,  and  forehead.  They  display  both  voluntary  and 
involuntary  movement — finnikin  affectation,  listless- 
ness, violence,  timidity,  and  every  degree  of  grace  and 
awkwardness  in  a more  obvious  manner  pictorially 
than  even  the  facial  expression — yet  no  part  of  a draw- 
ing is  more  generally  scamped  than  the  hands,  partly 
because  of  the  trouble  involved  in  the  draughtsman- 
ship, but  also  (a  more  serious  cause)  from  lack  of 
interest  in  them. 

Feet 

Even  the  feet  are  remarkably  expressive  ; and  it  is 
worth  noticing  what  great  amount  of  dramatic  signifi- 
cance a drawing  may  derive  from  them.  Some  of  Boyd 
Houghton’s  Arabian  Nights  series  may  be  taken  as 
examples — notably  the  drawing  of  The  Envious  Man 
plucking  the  hairs  from  the  cat’s  tail — the  meeting  of 
the  Prince  and  Badoura  (where  the  passion  of  their 
embrace  is  expressed  almost  more  by  the  feet  than  the 
lips) — the  Bridegroom  shut  up  in  the  Lumber  Room— 

236 


INSPIRATION  FROM  LITERATURE 


No.  98.  E.  A.  Abbey.  Process  block,  enlarged  from  wood  engraving 
by  Cooper.  A masterpiece  of  delicate  spacing  of  line  work  to  preserve 

the  lights. 


where  the  feet  are  full  of  a chill  fear — prophetic  indeed 
of  the  war  expression  “ cold  feet  ” — and  in  the  Death 
of  the  African  Magician  ; where  they  play  their  full 
part  in  the  composition  of  the  silhouette,  at  the  same 


237 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
time  being  extraordinarily  expressive  of  the  poisoned 
agony  of  the  magician.  There  are  many  such  cases  in 
his  work,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  multiply  them. 

In  Phil  May’s  drawings  much  of  the  decorative  effect 
is  arrived  at  by  the  clear  establishment  of  the  feet  upon 
the  ground.  There  is  always  an  emphatic  silhouette, 
and  the  pose  or  relation  of  two  or  more  persons  of  a 
group,  and  the  relation  of  one  group  to  another  is 
always  clearly  observed  and  stated — this  being  as  im- 
portant a subject  from  the  decorative  point  of  view  as 
the  relation  of  heads  in  a group.  Many  accomplished 
artists  overlook  this  factor  in  a composition,  and  hang 
the  figures  to  the  faces,  instead  of  standing  them  firmly 
with  their  feet  upon  the  ground  with  the  head  duly 
supported  on  top  according  to  the  generally  accepted 
law  of  gravity. 


238 


No.  99.  Beardsley.  From  “ Under  the  Hill.”  Direct  process  block. 
Delicately  contrived  pattern  of  tone  and  rhythm  in  a manner 
reminiscent  of  the  sciagraph. 


239 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


NECESSITY  FOR  ACCURACY  OF  REFERENCE 

TO  TEXT 

The  illustrator  should  keep  his  text  handy  to 
refer  to  at  all  times,  or  he  will  fall  into  small 
errors  of  detail  that  ten  members  of  the  public 
will  notice,  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  whom  will  write  to 
the  papers,  the  editors,  and  the  publishers  about,  asking 
why  so  incompetent  a person  is  allowed  to  exist.  If  he 
should  represent  a sirloin  instead  of  a round  of  beef,  as 
I once  did  in  some  illustrations  to  Tom  Brown's  School- 
days, he  may  share  my  experience — there  was  a long  and 
angry  letter  published  in  the  Daily  Chronicle  about  it, 
which  H.  G.  Wells,  with  whom  I was  staying,  read  out 
to  me  at  breakfast.  We  danced  round  the  table  with 
delight — but  the  man  was  perfectly  correct — it  ought  to 
have  been  a round  of  beef,  and  I am  sorry  that  I offended 
“ X,”  the  unknown  gentleman.  But  in  spite  of  all  our 
care,  an  error  sometimes  slips  in.  The  “ S.Y.  Vectis  ” 
happened  to  be  mentioned  in  a short  story  which  I 
was  asked  to  illustrate  in  a hurry  for  a well-known 
magazine.  We  imagined  the  “ Vectis  ” to  be  a real 
boat  ; and,  at  my  request,  the  Art  Editor  rang  up  the 
P.  & O.  for  any  illustrated  pamphlets  or  material  they 
might  have,  so  that  the  drawings  might  be  accurate. 
Nothing  came,  and  I wrote  myself.  Nothing  came.The 
Art  Editor  wrote  and  I telephoned — and  then — an 
avalanche  of  literature  descended  in  two  lots  on  each 


240 


No.  100.  Beardsley.  From  “The  Rape  of  the  Lock.” 
Somewhat  put  to  it  to  detach  his  groups  he  manages  by  an  artful 
disposal  of  pattern. 


241 


s 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
of  us,  all  different — so  that  eventually  I had  a pile 
about  eight  inches  high,  but  nothing  quite  to  my  pur- 
pose. However,  we  had  done  our  best,  and  my  hurried 
sketches  appeared,  finally,  more  hurried  for  the  delay, 
I received  a heavy  rebuke  from  a clergyman  at  Ely 
pointing  out  that  on  a lifebuoy  which  I had  introduced 
into  the  background  I had  put  “ S.Y.  Vectis,  London,” 
whereas  her  port  of  entry  was  Greenock.  I was  re- 
minded of  Whistler’s  “ Admission  ” in  the  “ Gentle 
Art  of  Making  Enemies,”  when  he  had  misspelt 
Piazzetta  with  one  z and  committed  other  enormities 
— “Who  could  possibly  have  supposed  an  ortho- 
grapher  loose  ! Evidently  too  ung  vieulx  qui  a moult 
route  en  Palestine  et  aultres  lieux  ! ” 

What  it  is  to  be  prepared,  though  ! Atlas,  mon  pauvre 
ami,  you  know  the  story  of  the  witness  who,  when  asked 
how  far  he  stood  from  the  spot  where  the  deed  was 
done,  answered  unhesitatingly : “ Sixty-three  feet, 

seven  inches  ! ” “ How,  Sir,”  cried  the  prosecuting 
lawyer,  “ how  can  you  possibly  pretend  to  such  accur- 
acy ? ” “ Well,”  returned  the  man  in  the  box,  “ you 
see  I thought  some  d — d fool  would  be  sure  to  ask 
me,  and  so  I measured.” 


242 


No.  101.  Beardsley.  From  “The  Yellow  Book.” 
Delicately  luminous  pattern. 


243 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


ILLUSTRATION  OF  MODERN  PLAYS 

IT  is  worth  considering  whether  a better  service 
might  not  be  performed  to  Literature  and  Art,  and 
the  illustrator  be  better  employed,  if  publishers  were 
frequently  to  issue  illustrated  editions  of  modern  plays. 
Many  people  find  a difficulty  in  reading  these,  as  they 
lack  the  objective  dramatic  sense,  which  is  one  of  the 
simplest  the  illustrator  can  be  called  upon  to  supply. 
The  Dramatis  Personce  in  themselves  provide  ample 
opportunity  for  character  drawing  ; and  even  in  the 
most  conversational  comedy  of  manners,  it  is  likely 
that  there  will  be  found  almost  an  excess  of  incident. 
Many  unacted  plays  might  by  this  means  reach  a con- 
siderable public  ; and  those,  either  unsuited  to  the 
times  or  crowded  out  of  the  theatres,  might  find  a 
permanent  and  acceptable  form.  It  is  probable  that 
most  of  the  best  plays  find  no  place  upon  the  boards — 
and  failing  to  do  so,  fail  also  of  any  chance  of  success 
with  the  book  publishers,  remaining  for  ever  coffined 
in  the  desk  of  the  writer.  The  illustrator  could  remedy 
this  by  supplying  the  dramatic  side,  the  action  and  the 
character  that  the  public  cannot,  without  the  actors^ 
aid,  visualize  for  itself.  Let  the  illustrator  perform  the 
actors’  and  producers’  functions,  and  a quite  large  and 
increasing  public  might  be  found  for  a bulk  of  dramatic 
literature  of  a higher  class  than  is  usually  to  be  seen 
upon  the  boards.  The  general  dramatic  taste  would  be 

244 


No.  102.  Beardsley.  From  “The  Yellow  Book.” 

It  is  amusing  to  examine  why  this  looks  flat  and  the  Nicholsons  look  solid. 


245 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

raised  to  a higher  level,  as  its  interest  in,  and  better 
understanding  of,  dramatic  literature  was  fostered,  and 
our  stage  would  be  in  every  way  strengthened.  Authors 
now  devoted  to  the  novel  form  might  be  induced  to 
write  dramatically  if  they  could  feel  sure  of  a reading 
public  independently  of  stage  production.  The  illus- 
trator would  not  so  constantly  find  himself  treading 
the  author’s  descriptive  ground  all  over  again  ; for  in 
the  dramatic  form  all  useless  description  of  place, 
character,  and  costume  is  omitted.  While  such  des- 
criptive writing  is  frequently  hampering  rather  than 
helpful  to  the  artist,  it  is  the  lack  of  this  that  distresses 
the  accustomed  novel  reader  who  picks  up  a play.  This 
gap  is  better  filled  in  by  the  illustrator  than  by  the 
novelist.  Usually  a story  is  written  without  a view  to 
illustration  ; so  that  if  it  is  so  treated  we  have  an 
almost  inevitable  redundance.  On  the  other  hand,  a play 
is  always  written  with  the  actor  in  mind,  whose  place, 
if  the  play  is  unacted,  the  illustrator  can  fill  with  equal 
adequacy. 


246 


CHAPTER  XXXVl 


CHILDREN’S  BOOKS 

Much  might  be  written,  and  has  indeed  been 
written,  on  the  subject  of  illustrated  books 
for  children,  but  nothing  more  illuminating 
than  the  conversation  recorded  by  Mr.  Edward  Johnston 
in  an  early  number  of  The  Imprint. 

Children  love  lots  of  facts  in  a drawing,  and  their 
relation  one  to  another  is  of  little  importance  to  them. 
Mr.  Johnston’s  little  daughter  {cetat  8|)  gave  some 
illuminating  replies  in  answer  to  his  questions  regard- 
ing the  sort  of  pictures  she  liked — and  then — to  quote 
the  dialogue  that  followed  : 

“ Myself  (Mr.  Edward  Johnston)  : I want  to  know 
another  thing — not  considering  the  things  in  the  pic- 
ture, but  how  do  you  like  the  pictures  made  } 
ist  Daughter  : How  it’s  drawn,  do  you  mean  ? 
Myself  : Yes. 

ist  Daughter  ; Well,  you  just  draw  them  don’t  you  } 
If  you  were  going  to  draw  a landscape  you  would 
probably  draw  a hill  with  a stream  and  a wood  and 
then,  if  you  were  going  to  have  little  creatures  running 
about,  you  would  make  rabbit  holes  in  the  hill,  and 
you’d  probably  have  at  the  end  of  the  stream  a pond, 
and  then  you  might  have  a windmill  on  the  hill.  You 
might  have  a road  coming  down  from  the  windmill 
— and  the  stream  might  come  out  of  the  wood. 

On  my  suggestion  the  ist  Daughter  began  to  draw 

247 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
her  picture,  and  the  2nd  Daughter  {cetat  7)  presently 
coming  in  (not  having  heard  this  conversation)  answered 
my  first  question  thus  : 

2nd  Daughter  : I think  I like  that  sort  of  picture 
what  Bridget’s  got  there — I think  I can  draw  that  sort 
of  picture. 

Myself  : Well,  aren’t  there  any  others  ? 

2nd  Daughter  : I don’t  think  I like  any  other  pictures. 

Myself  (trying  a leading  question)  : Don’t  you  like 
animals  ? 

2nd  Daughter  : Well,  in  pictures  like  that  I do  have 
animals,  you  see.  I like  them  sort  of  mixed  up. 

Myself  : What  do  you  mean  ? 

2nd  Daughter  : Well,  you  see.  I’d  make  one  like 
that  and  then  make  other  things  in  it  like  bits  of  other 
pictures.  . . . 

ist  Daughter  : But  don’t  you  like  other  kinds  of 
pictures  ? — you  put  such  an  awful  lot  of  things  into  one 
picture. 

2nd  Daughter  : And  that’s  what  I mean  by  having 
it  mixed  up,  and  that’s  why — I like  having  a lot  of 
things  in  one  picture.”  {The  Imprint,  Vol.  I,  2.) 

The  young  lady  of  eight  and  a half  appears  to  be  a 
somewhat  advanced  critic  on  one  point  ; most  people 
until  their  eyes  begin  to  fail  remaining  in  the  condition 
of  the  lady  of  seven,  and  liking  a lot  of  things  “ all 
mixed  up  ” with  bits  of  other  pictures — a surfeit  of 
content  ; and  as  to  the  drawing — “ Well,  you  just 
draw  them,  don’t  you  } ” It  is  precisely  in  the  arrange- 
ment and  the  drawing  and  the  relation  of  its  contents 
towards  building  up  a pictorial  unit  rather  than  in  the 

248 


No.  103.  Beardsley.  An  example  of  beautiful  spacing,  in  which  the 
whites  do  not  appear  blank,  and  the  white  costume  has  a different 
value  from  the  sky. 


249 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 
individual  parts  that  the  artist’s  higher  function  lies. 
It  is  a pity  that  anyone  should  be  content  to  remain 
untouched  by  what  is  capable  of  yielding  so  much 
aesthetic  pleasure.  Let  them  take  a Japanese  print 
almost  at  random  and  study  with  what  a tremulous 
balance  the  scales  are  held  between  economy  and 
lavishness  of  fact.  The  statement  is  complete  ; to  sub- 
tract a line  would  be  parsimony,  to  add  one  superfluous 
— either  would  disturb  the  exactitude  of  the  balance. 

“ The  world  is  so  full  of  a number  of  things  ” that  it 
is  beyond  the  capacity  even  of  an  industrious  recorder 
who  lives  to  ninety  odd,  like  Menzel,  to  set  down  a 
tithe  of  what  he  sees.  But  to  set  down  “ how  ” you  see 
any  given  thing,  what  pressure  it  makes  upon  the  brain, 
or  what  kinds  of  thoughts  and  impressions  it  leaves  or 
produces  is  to  share  out  the  mind  with  the  world,  even 
though  the  subject  be  nothing  but  a jam-pot  upon  a 
dresser. 


250 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 


THE  PRINT  ROOM 

“ A dream  cometh  through  the  multitude  of  business  ^ 

YOU  hop  off  the  ’bus  at  Mudies’,  the  most 
famous  circulating  library  in  the  world.  You 
pause  at  their  famous  corner  to  glance  at  the 
display  of  the  latest  literature  dressed  up  in  its  gaudy 
“jackets.”  You  leave  behind  the  roar  of  Oxford  Street 
with  its  swift  currents  of  life  to  and  from  the  City ; and 
turn  up  the  quiet  alley  of  Museum  Street,  slackening  at 
the  photograph  shops  whence  Monna  Lisa  smiles  side- 
long at  the  passer-by ; or  Rodin’s  Penseur  glowers  direct 
and  forbidding.  There  across  a street  you  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  grey  Museum  with  its  iron  fencing  and 
gateways — shabby  people  saunter  without  disturbing  the 
Cockney  pigeons — a school  of  incongruous  girls  with 
a “ forbidder  ” in  spectacles  comes  out  laughing  into  the 
sun  as  you  enter  with  the  vari-coloured  oddments  of 
the  Heathen  and  Christian  universe,  who  converge 
towards  the  enormous  portico  to  be  swallowed  alive  in 
this  great  Mausoleum  where  Old  Time  lies  buried. 
Fashion  is  absent  ; “ Le  Dernier  Cri  ” is  unheard.  Up 
the  stairs  or  through  the  sculpture  galleries  you  saunter, 
through  the  bronze  ages,  past  the  mummies  of  priests, 
priestesses  and  Royal  personages,  through  the  Greek 
and  Roman  rooms  past  the  “ vases  of  the  best  period  ” ; 
and,  after  a turn  round  the  “ slopes  ” of  selected  prints 

251 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 


No.  104.  Woodcut.  Key  block  from  “Nicholson’s  Alphabet.” 

An  effect  of  solidity  is  achieved  by  the  merest  hint  of  light  and  shade, 
and  the  rounding-off  of  angles  in  the  silhouettes. 


and  the  display  of  Ming  Dynasty  and  Rajput  paintings, 
push  past  the  unpretentious  and  silent  swing  door  of 
the  Print  Room,  where  lies  stored  the  summary  of  the 
artistic  product  of  the  world.  A bell  rings  as  the  door 

252 


THE  PRINT  ROOM 


No.  105.  Woodcut.  Key  block  from  “ Nicholson’s  Alphabet.” 


swings  to,  and  mild-eyed  old  gentlemen  with  white 
beards  look  up  from  the  portfolios  like  patient  ruminant 
kine  in  a byre  as  you  tread  softly  to  your  place  to  begin 
your  spiritual  adventure.  Will  it  land  you  here — with 
them  ? Oxford  Street,  and  life  and  its  roar,  and  the 


253 


THE  ART  OF  ILLUSTRATION 

novels  of  Mudies’  in  their  jackets,  and  the  photographs 
of  the  art  of  the  world  are  but  five  minutes  behind  you. 
You  take  your  seat,  looking  up  now  and  again  to  change 
the  focus  of  your  eyes  as  the  door  swings  and  the  bell 
tinkles.  Was  the  City  or  is  this  the  heart  of  things  ? 
You  become  a quiet  ruminant  man. 

Does  Art  present  a refuge  from  life,  a false  hope 
softly  indulged  like  a dream  of  heaven  less  than  half 
believed  ? The  strenuous  expression  of  our  life  lived  at 
its  keenest  and  hardest,  a sensuous  anodyne,  a pastime, 
the  “ occupation  of  a man’s  leisure  ” ? An  ornament 
only  on  the  main  structure,  or  the  foundation  and 
pinnacle  of  the  spiritual  life  itself  ? It  is  or  ought  to  be 
all  things  to  all  men.  The  work  of  the  illustrator  makes 
its  appeal  to  the  swift  life  of  Oxford  Street  outside,  in  the 
crude  language  of  the  man  in  the  street,  as  also  gently 
here  to  the  passionless  white-bearded  men  whose  con- 
cern seems  httle  enough  with  the  ways  of  the  City — 
who  seem  to  have  taken  refuge  from  the  vulgar  elbows, 
to  talk  quietly  with  the  wise  and  distinguished  alone — 
to  feel  and  see  through  other  eyes  and  by  other  pulses 
in  the  highest  communion  with  other  minds,  living 
their  selfless  lives  ; modern  monks,  untouched  by  the 
crush  outside  their  cloister,  whose  religion  is  Art. 


254 


INDEX 


Abbey,  e.  a.,  190 

Academy,  The  Royal,  4,  10, 
86,  197 

ALsthetic  Movement,  The,  4 
Alexander,  Miss,  10 
Allingham,  William,  210 
America,  42 

Ang-elo,  Michael,  vii,  i,  8,  ii,  22,  36, 
147.  i55>  224,  226 
Apelles,  223,  226 
Arabian  Nights,  The,  203 
Art  Workers’  Guild,  The,  214 

Balzac,  Honors  de,  162 
Bartolozzi,  34 
Basire,  145,  228 

Beardsley,  Aubrey,  4,  32,  36,  49, 
1 14,  122,  148,  220,  231 
Beerbohm,  Max,  68 
Beethoven,  1 1 
Berkeley,  223 
Besant,'  Mrs.  Annie,  18 
Bewick,  William,  78,  79,  80,  83,  93 
Bihhys  Annual,  18 
Blake,  William,  8,  24,  34,  36,  42,  55, 
63,  64,  114,  1 16,  118,  120,  145, 
155.  221,  223,  230 
Borrow,  George,  136 
Botticelli,  38,  126,  127 
Browning,  Robert,  222 
Buchanan,  Robert,  210 
Bunyan,  John,  37 
Burns,  Robert,  121,  122 


Caldecott,  Randolph,  200 

Caricature,  68 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  lo 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  120 
Christies',  216 
Composition,  99 
Corner,  Miss,  79 
Correggio,  Antonio  Allegri,  224 
Courrier  Frangais,  195 
Crane,  Walter,  200 
Crawhall,  the  elder,  182 
Cross-hatching,  140,  145 
Crowquill,  Alfred,  79 
Cubists,  4,  214,  216 


AILY CHRONICLE,  The,  240 
Daily  Graphic,  The,  216 
Dalziel,  The  Brothers,  60,  209 
Dante,  126,  128 
Daumier,  72 
Degas,  95,  97 

Dickens,  Charles,  6,  208,  212 

Dobson,  Austin,  190 

Dolly  Dialogues,  100 

Dor^,  Gustave,  81,  82,  162,  164,  r66 

Dryden, John,  228 

Durand,  190 

Durer,  Albrecht,  8,  ii,  36,  77,  100, 
137.  148,  153.  iSS>  220.  226 

Einstein,  Professor  A.,  55 
Eliot,  George,  103 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  99,  100 

Facsimile  Engraving,  83 

Familiar  Fables,  79 
Family  Herald  Supplement,  112 
Fildes,  Sir  Luke,  5 
Foxes  Book  of  Martyrs,  126 
Frederick  the  Great,  83,  no 
Fuseli,  146 
Futurists,  4,  214,  216 

Gainsborough,  John,  32, 

Gauguin,  189  [36 

Gavarni,  8 1 

Gilchrist,  Alexander,  146,  147,  221- 
Gilray,  72  [230 

Goodfellow,  Robin,  64 
Graft(?n  Galleries,  The,  214 
Graphic,  The,  121,  190,  212,  216 
Gravelot,  Anton,  228 
Greenaway,  Kate,  200 
Greiffenhagen,  Maurice,  193 

HAMERTON,  P.  G.,  2h 

Hardy,  O.M.,  Thomas,  212 
Harmony,  100,  204 
Hartrick,  A.  S.,  103,  190 
Hayley,  1 16 
Helleu,  56 
Hislop,  Dr. , 214 

Hogarth,  William,  37,  58,  114,  230 
Holbein,  Hans,  ii,  56,  57 


255 


INDEX 


Hood,  Tom,  210 

Houghton,  Arthur  Boyd,  135,  137, 
142,  143,  203,  236 

IDEALISM,  34,  223 
Impressionism,  214 
Imprint,  The,  247 
Ink,  51 

Intransigeants,  The,  189 

AMES,  Henry,  109 
Jessop,  56 
Johnson,  Jack,  112 
Johnston,  Edward,  247 
Jones,  Owen,  203 

Keene,  Charles,  32,  36,  135, 
.143.  231 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  99,  212 

Lawless,  m.  j.,  88,  136 

Leadbeater,  C.  W.,  i8 
Leandre,  72,  74 
Legrand,  Louis,  195 
Leighton,  Sir  Frederick,  4,  60 
Leighton,  F.R.A.S.,  John,  203 
Leprechaun,  The,  64 
Lewis,  J.  F. , 41 
L'Hautrec,  Toulouse,  189 
Lloyd,  Marie,  74 
Lob-lie-by-the-fire,  64 
Locker,  Frederick,  210 
Lord’s  Prayer,  The,  172 

AB,  Queen,  64 
MacColl,  D.  S.,  15 
Macdonald,  George,  210 
Mahoney,  136 

May,  Phil,  32,  36,  46,  47,  109,  113- 
121,  183,  195,  231,  238 
Meisenbach  Process,  The,  194 
Menzel,  32,  36,  40,  83,  84,  no,  in, 
234.  250 

Meredith,  George,  212 
Millais,  Sir  John,  38,  40,  85,  135, 
158-161,  232 
Milton,  John,  64,  66 
Mona  Lisa,  251 
Mudie’s,  251,  254 

National  Gallery,  The,  4, 
22,  40,  41 

Nicholson,  William,  182 
North,  J.  W.,  214 
Northcote,  James,  79,  80 
Norton,  The  Hon.  Mrs.,  210 


OMAR  Khayyam,  150 
Once  a Week,  168 
Ospovat,  Henry, 

PALESTINE,  65 
Paper,  50 

Paraleipomenon,  16 
Patinir,  38 
Pendennis,  208 
Pens,  47,  48 
Pettie,  John,  136 
Pickwick  Papers,  The,  208 
Piesse,  7 

Pinwell,  G.  J.,  13s 
Pisano,  Nicolo,  38 
Pope,  Alexander,  228 
Portfolio,  The,  21 1 
Post-Impressionism,  4,  214,  216 
Poynter,  Sir  Edward,  60 
Pre-Raphaelites,  The,  40,  41,  85,  88, 
104,  135,  158,  161 
Protogenes,  223,  226 
Punch,  I,  217 

^^^UILL  Pens,  90 

Raphael,  147, 223, 224, 226 

Realism,  34 
Reference  Books,  54 
Rembrandt,  36,  147,  228 
Renouard,  Paul,  106,  107,  108,  219 
Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  147 
Rodin,  Auguste,  251 
Romano,  Giulio,  226 
Rossetti,  Christina,  210 
Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  135,  161 
Rowlandson,  72 

Rubens,  Peter  Paul,  32,  147,  228 
Ruskin,  John,  20 

r^T.  STEPHEN'S  Review,  The, 

O 

Sandys,  Frederick,  88,  135,  136, 

137 

Saturday  Westminster,  The,  128 
Savoy,  The,  125,  210 
Shakespeare,  William,  64,  76,  120, 
142,  168,  235 
Sime,  S.  H.,  73 
Sistine  Chapel,  vii,  i 
Sleigh,  J.,  203 
Small,  William,  234 
Smythe,  Lionel,  132 
Soldene,  Emily,  26 
Steel  Nibs,  90 


256 


INDEX 


Sterne,  Laurence,  i6 
Stothard,  120 

Style,  77  [220 

Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  148, 

TADEMA,  Laurens  Alma,  4, 
Taylor,  Tom,  210  [234 

Technique,  44 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord,  41,  66,  158 
Thackeray,  William  Makepeace,  208, 
212,  218 

Theories  of  Lines,  189 
Thony,  195 
Thoxight  Forms,  18 
Tickletohy,  16 
Titian,  147,  228 
Tom  Brown's  Schooldays,  240 
Tristram  Shandy,  16,  17 
Trollope,  Anthony,  160,  218 
Tussaud,  Madame,  214 

"^^CCELLO,  Paolo,  38 

VAN  GOGH,  189 
Vanity  Fair,  72 
“Van  Stern,"  27 


Vasari,  147 
Veck,  Trotty,  6 
“ Vectis,  S.  Y."  240 
Velasquez,  36 
Victoria,  Queen,  31 
Virgil,  126,  128,  145 


WATTS,  G.  F.,ix,  23,  189 
Webb,  William,  7 
Wells,  H.  G.,  104,  240 
Westminster  Abbey,  145 
Whistler,  James  McNeill,  6,  9, 
28,  37,  38,  174,  176,  210, 
216,  242 

Whitman,  Walt,  1,  220 
Wordsworth,  William,  64 


YORICK,  17 

Yorick  Club,  The,  73 
Yellow  Book,  The,  210 


^TANYS,  73 


, igo 


10, 

214, 


257 


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